Wishes
by mikim
Summary: Jareth's sister died, asking him to grant her last wish. 3 years after, he's aboveground and finds Sarah on his path. Or is it he who finds Sarah?
1. A Request Made An Opponent Met

Mikim stroke again! I know, a little Bit of Hell isn't finished yet, but it's almost done. Here's the first chapter of my new J/S fic. Wishes. Hopefully, it'd be funnier than the first.

Standard disclaimers apply, songs belong to their rightful owners, characters belong to their rightful owners too. 

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J'veux bien t'aimer  
Mais comment est-ce  
Que j'peux t'aimer  
Si j'te vois  
  


J'veux bien t'aimer  
Toute chaste ou presque  
Comme les curés  
Qui s'marient pas  
  


Les sœurs cloîtrées  
Qui se préservent  
Pour un bon vieux  
Dieu qui se cache  
  


J'veux bien t'aimer  
Bien sûr j'en rêve  
Mais comment veux-  
Tu que ça marche  
  


J'veux bien me moquer  
Du proverbe  
Qui dit « Loin des  
Yeux, loin du cœur »  
  


Dire que c'est faux  
Que c'est acerbe  
Que c'est exprès  
Pour nous faire peur  
  


J'veux bien m'endormir  
Chaque soir  
En m'blottissant  
Contre personne  
  


Avec ton corps   
Dans la mémoire  
Comme une mère-grand  
Qui pleure son homme  
  


J'veux bien t'aimer  
Même jusqu'à croire   
Aux éventuels  
Avantages  
  


De mélanger  
Nos deux histoires  
En perpétuel  
Décalage  
  


J'veux bien forcer  
Tous ces hasards  
Qui r'fusent de jouer   
En notre faveur  
  


Et puis gagner  
La chance de t'voir  
Deux petites journées  
Ou deux petites heures  
  


J'veux bien t'aimer  
Mais comment est-ce  
Que j'peux t'aimer  
Si j'suis pas là  
  


Pour t'envelopper  
De ma tendresse  
Et t'consoler  
Si ça va pas  
  


Oui je veux bien  
T'aimer de loin  
Le cœur tout plein  
De ton grand vide  
  


T'aimer d'amour  
Et de chagrin  
T'aimer pour rien  
Les yeux humides  
  


J'veux bien t'aimer  
Mais pour être franche  
J'suis pas solide  
Si j'te vois pas  
  


J'suis comme aveugle  
Sans canne blanche  
Ni chien-guide  
Et sans ton bras  
  


Pour traverser  
Cette rue-là  
Que l'on appelle  
L'océan  
  


Pour traverser  
Mais jusqu'à toi  
Y'a pas d'arc-en-ciel  
Assez grand  
  


J'veux bien t'aimer  
Bien entendu  
De toute façon  
Est-ce que j'ai l'choix  
  


Je suis piégée  
Je suis perdue  
Je tourne en rond  
Je t'aime déjà  
  


Même si je sans  
Que je m'éreinte  
A te chercher  
Les bras tendus  
  


Dans cet effrayant  
Labyrinthe  
Trop compliqué  
Et trop tordu  
  


Je vais t'aimer  
Même si tout ça  
C'est sans issue  
C'est impossible  
  


Et j'y croirai  
Comme d'autres croient  
Au petit Jésus  
Et à la Bible  
  


Je sais pas encore  
Comment est-ce  
Que j'vais t'aimer  
Si j'te vois pas  
  


Mais j'vais t'aimer  
C'est une promesse  
Est-ce que t'entends  
C'que j'te dis là ?  
  


Je vais t'aimer !  
Je vais t'aimer…

I'd like to love you  
But how can I  
Love you   
If I can't see you  
  


I'd like to love you  
All chaste or almost  
Like a minister  
Who doesn't marry  
  


The cloistered sisters  
Who keep themselves   
For a good 'ld God  
Who's hiding somewhere  
  


I'd like to love you   
Of course I dream of it  
But how so you   
Want it to go on?  
  


I'd like to mock  
That saying "Far from   
The eyes, far from   
The heart."  
  


Say it's untrue  
That's it's sour  
That's it's on purpose  
To scare us  
  


I'd like to sleep  
Every night,  
Snuggling   
To no one,  
  


With your body  
In memory  
Like an old grandma   
Who cries her for man.  
  


I'd like to love you  
Even to believe  
in the possible  
Advantages  
  


Of mixing our   
Two histories  
In perpetual  
Gap  
  


I'd like to force  
All these hazards  
That refuse to play  
In our favor.  
  


And win   
The chance to see you  
Two little days,  
Two little hours.  
  


I'd like to love you  
But how can I  
Love you   
When I'm not there?  
  


To wrap you  
In my tenderness  
And comfort you  
If something's amiss  
  


Yes, I'd like to   
Love you from afar  
Heart full   
Of your big empty  
  


Love you of love  
And sorrow  
Love you for nothing   
My eyes wet.  
  


I'd like to love you,  
But to be honest,  
I'm not strong  
If I can't see you  
  


I'm like blind  
Without a white stick  
Or dog-guide  
And without your arm  
  


To cross  
That road here  
That we call  
The ocean  
  


To cross to you  
But to get you  
There's no rainbow  
Big enough  
  


I'd like to love you  
Of course  
Either way  
Do I have the choice?  
  


I'm trapped  
I'm lost  
I'm walking in circles  
I love you already  
  


Even if I feel  
That I'm wearing myself out  
Looking out for you  
Arms extended  
  


In this frightening  
Labyrinth  
Too complicated  
And twisted  
  


I'm gonna love you  
Even if  
There's no way out  
It's impossible  
  


And I'd believe  
Like others believe  
In the small Christ  
And in the holy bible  
  


I still don't know  
How am I  
Gonna love you  
If I don't see you  
  


But I will love you  
It's a promise  
D'you hear  
What I'm saying?  
  


I'm gonna love you!  
I'm gonna love you…

..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..

The room used to be filled with laughter and merry songs. He used to come here to sit at her feet while her crystalline voice would rise above the instrument her fingers were dancing upon. He had always associated that room, her room, with warmth, love and fond memories of his always-smiling sister. Like him, she had fair hair that cascaded on her delicate shoulders. 

Unlike him, her eyes were both blue, crystal blue, like the sky on cold winter mornings. Her frail figure made the others fear wind could swept her off her feet, but he knew better. After all, she raised him. Her name was Millibel, elder sister of the Goblin King, Heir of the High Throne, and she was dying in her younger brother's arms.  
"Please, Jareth, grant my wish…" She whispered and he shuddered again at the rough sound of her once melodic voice. A voice a poet had once compared to the most marvelous bird. She was sick for a long time. It was an illness quite rare in the Underground but when it stroke, one couldn't resist to it and she didn't make an exception. 

"Milli…" He was holding her body, as if she were a broken doll, crushed to his chest, eyes tightly shut, face buried in her neck, kneeling next to her bed.  
"My very last selfish wish, little brother." Once again, his strong body almost crumbled in despair. When they had learned of her illness, they had made a deal, he would try to grant a hundred of her wishes and she would fight the beast eating her from within with all her might. He had clung on that hope, shutting away all the voices, even his, which told him it was a lost battle.  
He took another shaking breath and moaned. "Milli, hang on. Please…"

She didn't appear to hear what he had just said. "You know, I've already seen her." Jareth took another rasp breath. Air was turning scare in his lungs but he just couldn't breath. "I was curious, like you, mind you, I wanted to know who was the incredible female who had wormed her way to your frozen heart…" He could almost see the lazy smile spreading on her red lips. She didn't even have the strength to hug him back. Her arms laid on the beds by her side, frozen.

"Milli, I'm… I'm not ready yet…" He knew he was stupid. He had tried to be prepared, he had wanted to avoid such scene, but he couldn't. She was supposed to be the only constant in his life.   
"My last wish, Jareth, please." She whispered again. He heard a muffled cry from behind him but he didn't care. Nobody but him could hold her, right now.

He tightened his hold on her, as if he could stop the running flow of her life fleeing her body. "I… I'll do it." He managed to say. He tried to breathe in deeply her scent once more.  
"Thank you." He felt her head fall against the top of his, hid in her neck.   
"Milli…"  
"Call it Labyrinth…" She whispered dreamily. "She'll know it's you, then." She made a sound that could have been a chuckle but it torn Jareth's heart apart as it was followed by a fit of coughing. " Oh… I'll watch over you to make sure you don't blow everything away with you stupid temper…" She managed to say before the coughing shook her body again and he rose his head, in alarm, at the force of the fit. "Jareth…" Her voice was ragged and blood was on her chin, surely, he had some too in his hair, he suddenly thought, clinically. "Make it stop… It hurts…" His eyes widened in horror and he took her face in his hands, bringing his brow against hers.  
"Milli… I can't!" He pleaded her and he hoped deep in his heart it was only another nightmare. And he would tell her about it and she would laugh her head out at this and mock gently him with it afterwards.

But the older and drained voice from behind him crushed his last hopes. "Your highness, please, let me…"  
He wrapped his arms around her body again, as if he could protect her from the doctor. "NO!" He roared. Somebody began to cry hysterically behind him. He didn't care.   
"Jareth…" Her voice was weaker and weaker but he refused to acknowledge her demand: she had already made her wish!    
"NO!" He refused to listen to the little voice in his heart whispering that he was only letting her pain last longer that it could have been. The old doctor could end her pain quickly.  
"Your Highness, I beg you…" Again, the old man tried to persuade his young master. He was feeling so drained, he was older that the woman on the bed and she was dying. The doctor was getting tired of burying his friends, his masters and now one of who was the closest thing he could have as grandchild.   
"Milli, don't…" Jareth was crying but he didn't even know it. He couldn't feel his own tears. 

Gathering her last strength, she called out. "Sariel… I leave him in your care. I'll haunt you if nothing goes the way I said…"   
"Got it, my Lady. Young Prince…" The man's voice was clear and cold. But she knew better, it brought another smile to her lips.   
"NO!" Jareth rejected the hands on his shoulders, jerking them away from his and his sister's bodies. He was being stupid, but he couldn't help it.  
"My young lord, you're only causing her further pain. Edanial, make your office." The orders were clear and impersonal. Just the obvious and plain logic.   
The small doctor was ready to cry too. He knew what Millibel meant to Jareth. Everyone knew. "Lord Sariel, I think it's better if you led His Majesty out of the room."  
"I'm not leaving." Jareth spoke in what he hoped was a controlled and angry voice. When he felt a cold hand shakily cupping his cheek, he knew he had failed to try to be in control. He turned his eyes to his sister's face, startled. And when he met her gaze, he knew he was damned. 

"Jareth…" She whispered. She needn't to do more: defeated, Jareth howled, like a wounded beast. He threw his head back, his hold loosening, falling backwards. He had lost her; Death had beaten him there. Their gazes were still locked and they never turned away as the old healer quickly came forth and put his wrinkled hands on his patient forehead and chest. Jareth didn't tear his gaze away either when Sariel quickly, from behind, locked him in his grip.  
"EDANIAL!" Sariel screamed, telling the healer to go faster as Jareth started to fight Sariel's hold on him.

A scream suddenly ran throughout the whole castle, bouncing on the walls, shattering the windows. It made the others inhabitants of the castle shook: women to hide their faces and tears in their hands, children with their huge and frightened eyes to hug their toys closer or hide in their parents' arms and men to closed their eyes in sorrow. 

"MILLIBEL!!!!!"

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She was finally home! After a long day with the kids, she was bone tired. Rolling an aching shoulder, she reached for her bag, roaming inside it for the key of her apartment door. She balanced the groceries bags in her arms as she unlocked the door and stepped in. She was about to close the door with a foot when a clear voice called her name. "Sarah!" The young teacher turned her head towards the voice to see one of her two best friends climbing the last steps leading to her apartment, face red from exhaustion and excitement.   
"Hey, you!" Sarah smiled as Charlie came in, grinning madly, dropping a kiss on her cheek for greetings. 

Charlie was an old friend of Sarah's. From college, actually. Sarah had met Charlie while she was looking for the library and had asked the nearest person, a small light browned haired girl with laughing blue eyes, for directions. The nearest person turned out to be Charlie Thompson, always too kind for her own good, who gladly gave her the directions but also walked her to the library. That was how all started between the two of them. 

Then, Charlie had met Steward, had fallen head over heels for him but he had developed a crush on Sarah who didn't notice. Charlie who never had her eyes in her pockets, saw it all, swallowed her own desire, love and tears and tried to set up Steward and Sarah together, which she failed miserably, since Sarah didn't have the same feelings for Steward. And one thing leading to another, Steward fell for Charlie. They were married for almost two years now. But it didn't stop Charlie from drooling over new idols. 

Charlie took a bag of groceries from Sarah, her thrilled voice ringing. "I've just bought his CD!"  
Sarah and her friend walked in the apartment, to the kitchen to dispose of the groceries. "His?" Sarah asked her friend.  Sarah was used to her friend's cheerfulness: Charlie was always cheerful. Charlie was also very fond of 'hotties', 'handsome' music idols. Most of the time, her new crush was young, blond and singer. Sarah just rolled her eyes at the other 28 years-old woman who still acted like a 16 years-old one. 

"Yeah! You know! That guy who sings that incredible song! You said you liked his voice! Remember, I made you listen to it! His first CD just got released, so excited!" All this was blurted out in less than the time of a breathing.   
"Can tell." Sarah smiled as she put the milk she had just bought in the fridge.   
Charlie put away the last items and grabbed her bag, pulling out a CD. "I want to listen to it right now!" She all but jumped to Sarah's CD player, jerking the CD out of its plastic paper.  
"That's why you're here?" Sarah shook her head at her friend's eagerness and smiled, her voice gently mocking.  
"Of course, my place's too far." Charlie turned her head to send her a winning grin. "I'm here to see you too." She added after a thought, at Sarah's fake scowl.  
"Yeah, right." Sarah rolled her eyes again and sat on the couch, kicking her shoes in the process.  
"I'm so happy!" Charlie cried again in glee as she looked for a song.

Sarah leaned back in the couch, she loved her job: teaching to small children was fun but so tiring. She wanted to drop in her bed and sleep throughout the whole weekend. "You sound like a high school student with her first crush on a teen idol." She commentated dryly, putting an arm over her tired eyes.  
"Actually he is a little too old for a teen idol, but he's a new idol, anyway. And I really don't care!" Charlie's thrilled voice sang again, bringing a smile to Sarah's lips.  
"By the way, what's his name?" She asked purely to be polite, straightening on the couch, when Charlie came to sit next to her.  
"Uh? Oh, the CD's called Labyrinth and the main singer's Jareth. Cool name, huh?"

..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..

Annoyed, she tucked her long blond hair behind her left ear and nervously moved, shifting her weight on her other foot. "Are you sure it's a good idea?" She asked again, wearily.   
"Have you ever tried to talk him out of something?" The man only smiled back, leaning in the old leather couch, his long legs stretched before him, his feet on the small table.   
The woman wiped her sweaty hands on the material of her jeans and paced. "Huh… No. But, it doesn't mean that it's a good idea." She shook her blond head again.   
A silence fell upon the two occupants of the penthouse. The man turned his head to gaze outside, through the huge sliding doors, which permitted him to see the whole town. "It was her last wish."  He finally said, without looking at her. He knew by the sound that she made that she had stopped walking.  
The woman brought her trembling hands to her mouth and bit her lower lip. "But …" She started but he cut her.  
"She wasn't a fool and she loved him very much." He turned his cold gray eyes back to the woman. " She asked for the best." The woman dropped her hands and the frown she had been wearing eased a little.  
"Really?" She asked, hoping beyond hope.  
The man's face cracked with a smile. "Don't you think?" He challenged her, ironically. But his eyes remained cold.  
The woman, once more, ran her hand in her hair, tucked a lock of blond strand behind her ear. "What if the lady…" She asked again nervously, not finishing her sentence.  
The man smiled again and leaned his head on the back of the couch, staring at the ceiling while saying. "With a lot of 'what if' sweetheart, you could put both the Underground and the Aboveground in a bottle."  
"Jerk." She answered.

..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..

"Ja…?" Sarah spluttered. But as the music was already starting, and Charlie engrossed in the reading of the lyrics, Sarah's friend, usually sharp, didn't notice her friend sudden uneasiness.   
"Yeah… I love this song!" Charlie said her nose buried in the small lyrics notes.

_I'd like to love you  
But how can I  
Love you   
If I can't see you_

_  
_Sarah didn't even hear the beginning of the song. The words weren't registering in her brain, nor was Charlie's happy cooing. The name roamed in her skull. His name. She didn't even speak his name in the private conversations between herself and her heart for fear he would hear it. Or of her own reaction. Saying his name seemed too intimate even now, 14 years after. 

I'd like to love you  
All chaste or almost  
Like a minister  
Who doesn't marry

  
Him? A singer? Well, he did sing a wonderful song for her, when… it happened. But! A singer of the Aboveground? Got to be kidding.

_The cloistered sisters  
Who keep themselves   
For a good 'ld God  
Who's hiding somewhere  
  
_

Yeah, it surely was a coincidence. Sarah relaxed in the couch.

_I'd like to love you   
Of course I dream of it  
But how so you   
Want it to go on?_  
  


But. Charlie had said the title of the CD was 'Labyrinth'. A chill ran up her spine. Maybe it was just a guy who had read the same book as her and decided to take the main villain's name and his story.

_I'd like to mock  
That saying "Far from   
The eyes, far from   
The heart."  
  
_

_Say it's untrue  
That's it's sour  
That's it's on purpose  
To scare us  
  
_

_I'd like to sleep  
Every night  
Snuggling   
To no one  
  
_

Seriously, how many chances in the whole damned world are there for that? One of her two best friends head over heels for a new singer whose name was exactly the same as her personal nemesis and furthermore, his CD's name was the same as the story the villain featured in.

_With your body  
In memory  
Like an old grandma   
Who cries for her man  
  
_

_I'd like to love you  
Even to believe  
in the possible  
Advantages  
  
_

Of mixing our   
Two histories  
In perpetual  
Gap  
  


Had to be a coincidence! How could it be, otherwise?

I'd like to force  
All these hazards  
That refuse to play  
In our favor  
  


Was it truly him?

_And win   
The chance to see you  
Two little days  
Two little hours  
  
_

I'd like to love you  
But how can I  
Love you   
When I'm not there?  
  


No, no it couldn't be him! After all, she had beaten him, she had won her little brother back. She was insane: the singer was probably a black-haired teenager or something among the very same lines.

_To wrap you  
In my tenderness  
And comfort you  
If something's amiss  
  
_

_Yes, I'd like to   
Love you from afar  
Heart full   
Of your big empty  
  
_

Yet. He did have a marvelous voice and she did have that feeling of knowing that voice. No, she knew that voice. She remembered the day, Charlie had managed to get her listen to the song on the radio: her first thoughts had been on how familiar the voice sounded to her.

_Love you of love  
And sorrow  
Love you for nothing   
My eyes wet  
  
_

_I'd like to love you  
But to be honest  
I'm not strong  
If I can't see you  
  
_

After all, she was a dead pan when music was involved. So, maybe she was just fooling herself. Yes, she was just paranoid. Hell, it's been almost 15 years, now, she was just paranoid.

_I'm like blind  
Without a white stick  
Or dog-guide  
And without your arm  
  
_

Besides, where he lived there were probably no dogs to help the blinds. Stupid. No, it just couldn't be him.

_To cross  
That road here  
That we call  
The ocean  
  
_

End of the story. Just good old Sarah being at her most paranoid. Yes, paranoid. What was Steward like to tell her? Oh, yes, say it loud enough, repeat it enough times, and you'd believe in it. Stupid Steward. Why the hell was he her second best friend, anyway?

_To cross to you  
But to get you  
There's no rainbow  
Big enough  
  
_

_I'd like to love you  
Of course  
Either way  
Do I have the choice?  
  
_

Slave. He had promised her he'd be her slave. He had promised he'd be trapped forever. Promise to be here to grant each of her whims. The other song she had heard from him hadn't meant much at first, but after some deep analysis and dissecting his every actions, moves and words, she had reached a conclusion that had been really unnerving and unsettling. 

And Hoggle hadn't been much of help in that matter. All Hoggle could offer her didn't really please her: Hoggle kept on telling her to confront him with her conclusions, but if she couldn't bring herself to tell his name in the secret of her heart, how could she speak it loud and talk to him. 

_I'm trapped  
I'm lost  
I'm walking in circles  
I love you already  
  
_

_Even if I feel  
That I'm wearing myself out  
Looking out for you  
Arms extended  
  
_

In this frightening  
Labyrinth  
Too complicated  
And twisted  
  


The floor suddenly sank. She felt like she was falling backwards in a cold and dark night. A shiver ran down her spine. Doubt shook her. Cold suddenly plagued her. The world was spinning faster and faster.

_I'm gonna love you  
Even if  
There's no way out  
It's impossible  
  
_

_And I'd believe  
Like others believe  
__In the small Christ  
And in the holy bible  
  
___

I still don't know  
How am I  
Gonna love you  
If I don't see you  
  


Her cheeks started to feel hot and a warm feeling was building in her chest. She was going to faint.

_But I will love you  
It's a promise  
D'you hear  
What I'm saying?  
  
___

_I'm gonna love you!  
I'm gonna love you…  
  
_

Suddenly an excited cry and a jump made Sarah spinning down back on earth. "Again!" Charlie exclaimed as she jumped out of the couch, lyrics in her hands, to press the play button again.  
"Wait!" Sarah almost yelled after her friend.

Startled, Charlie turned her head towards Sarah and blinked. "What?" Charlie stared at Sarah and something clicked in her mind. She pressed the button replay and the song started again. Sarah's cheeks were crimson and she was fidgeting with her long black hair, twisting it between her fingers.   
"I…" Sarah started but a thought stopped her. What was she going to say? I think I knew the singer but you know, when I met him his job was to steal small children, funny isn't? So she added lamely.  "No, is there a picture of the singer?" 

Charlie raised an eyebrow at Sarah and handed her the small lyrics book. "Hum… Yeah, just his back. Here. Sarah? You okay?" She asked, concerned.  
Sarah's eyes fell on the picture. All she could see was his back and the fair hair. The guy was blond and broad-shouldered. There goes for the theory of a black haired teen idol… She thought lamely. Sarah tried her best to ignore the excited child-like voice, which whispered 'but a step closer to him…' 

Charlie's voice suddenly broke her staring at the photo and Sarah looked up. "Huh?" Charlie repeated her question once more and Sarah tried weakly to smile. "Hum, yes." She hoped she could get away with just that but Charlie's sly and knowing smile made her sigh and trying to gather her thoughts to find a quick lie. "It's just that…"  
"Yeah?" Charlie leaned forward, eager. 

She too remembered Sarah's odd reaction the first time she had heard a song from Jareth. She had jumped on her feet, surprised and had yelled 'I know that voice! It's his!' but since they were in the middle of a fast food, everybody looking at them like a pair of weirdoes had made the girls ran out of the restaurant as fast as possible but Sarah had refused to say anything more and Steward had made Charlie swear that she'd behaved and wait for Sarah to tell them by herself.

"Well, I knew someone who was called like him." Sarah could have kicked herself. Now Charlie would like to know the how, when, why, what of the whole story. To sum up, she was doomed.  
"Ah…" Charlie's unexpected answer made Sarah jumped in fear. Normally, Charlie would have already tackle her to the ground and would have been trying to strangle the information out of her. The unexpected answer was unnerving, like Charlie knew something more. The image of a fat and lazy cat licking its whiskers dripping with cream flashed in Sarah's mind as she gazed at her friend who was pulling a magazine out of her bag. Charlie flipped the pages and murmured. "Pure bliss. Lucky girl."  
"What?" Sarah cawed.  
"Oh, I read an interview he gave, he said this song was written for a specific someone." Charlie started innocently.

"Specific person?" Sarah repeated, her mind whirling.   
"You're weird, today."   
"Shut up…" Sarah started to brood. She was just going crazy. Not a chance that it was him. CRAZY. Yes, yes. Then suddenly something occurred her. "This interview!" She snapped, sitting up in the couch. "Are there any pictures of him?" She asked impatiently.  
"Let me see…" Charlie quickly scanned the four pages of the article.  "Yes, there's one of him with his fellows members. Just three of them…" Sarah snatched the magazine from Charlie's hand and looked for herself, dread and eagerness, excitement and fear raging inside her. "Sarah?" Charlie asked her when the other's face was suddenly drained of all its colour. 

Sarah jumped on her feet and yelled. "JARETH!" She stared at the picture, over and over again. He was sitting on a high stool, a handsome smile on his thin lips, his eyes laughing, his gaze turned on his two companions: a girl with blond hair and a man with black hair. The girl was laughing her head off and the black-haired man was looking at her with a fake sheepishly look on his handsome face. But Sarah's eyes kept on coming back to the smiling face on the right, his face.  
"You know him?" Charlie's voice brought her back to the reality..  
"Euh…" Sarah looked down at Charlie and sat back on the couch. "No, I mean. Yes, but…"  
"Sarah, is it a 'yes' or a 'no'?" Charlie cut her spluttering.   
But Sarah didn't mind her interruption, still focused on the photo. "God, it's truly Jareth…" She whispered. 

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Another man stepped in the penthouse. He had fair hair that gleamed white and silver in the moonlight, his mismatched eyes were glinting with secret and mischief, with some melancholy lurking on the edges. "She found out." A smile graced his thin lips and Jareth walked to the sliding doors, resting his brow against the cool material of the door.  
"Really?" The woman's voice was full of disbelief, bringing another smile to his lips.   
"I heard my name fall from her lips." He informed them, gazing outside.  
The man on the couch groaned. "About time." Sariel shifted place in the couch, so that his head was resting on one its arms, while his bare feet were on the opposite.   
"Jerk." Iome growled again at Sariel who turned his head in her direction, grinning.  
"That's the second time you call me like that."  
"Maybe because it's true." Iome snapped back.  
Jareth turned around to look at them and admonished them. "Kids."  
"You're the younger one here." Iome pouted making Jareth laugh.   
Then, his eyes started to glint and he purred. "Time to play." He turned his head once more to look at the city.  
"Play?" Iome's voice was startled.  
"Better laugh than cry, no?" Jareth turned his head back to her and pushed himself off the doors and walked to them, to lean on the back of the couch. "As for me, I've done enough crying for the next several centuries."  
"So what's the next step?" Sariel asked, his eyes closed, his hands crossed behind his head.  
Jareth smiled another time, making Iome shiver, and answered him. "Let's pay her a visit." Sariel smiled.

..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..

"Sarah Williams, do you know the new hottest male singer of the moment or not?" The dry voice and angry constant stomping of a foot jerked her back to earth from the suddenly frozen state she had been in.

Sarah all but collapsed in the couch, closing her eyes. "I'm afraid yes." She said, dreadfully.  
"You're afraid!" Charlie yelled excited. "Sarah! That's wonderful! You have to introduce me! Why didn't tell me earlier?" Sarah cracked an eye open to find Charlie kneeling in front of her, hands clamped like in a prayer, eyes shining and huge grin, just like a kid when it was time to open the presents during Christmas.

Sarah backed away a little from Charlie and swallowed her saliva hard. "I didn't know it was him!" She defended herself. "Besides…" She let her voice trail. What was she going to tell Charlie?  
"Besides?" Charlie advanced, eager.  
"Jareth and I, we're not exactly on what people could call the best terms ever."  
Charlie pouted and narrowed her eyes, then a smile slowly appeared and she said, firmly, crossing her arms under her breasts. "I'm not leaving till I get the whole story from you."  
"Sigh."  
"You could sigh bigger I won't change my mind."  
"Pig-head." Sarah smiled dryly. What was she going to do? What was between her and Jareth had always been a secret to the others. Hoggle knew because he was part of the secret. It was like a secret garden she held to her breast and she didn't want anybody to dirty it, even though it was her best friend. It just didn't feel right to tell her.  
"Right, look who's talking." Charlie lifted her eyebrows at Sarah, in a way that always turned Steward completely mad.  
Sarah waved her hand. "It's a long story." She sighed.

Charlie grinned and settled back on the couch. "I'm not going anywhere for the next six hours."  
"Very well." Sarah finally gave in. Maybe honesty was the best solution, of course, she wouldn't tell her the whole secret, maybe half of it and Charlie would be satisfied. For now. "I met him around 14 years ago. I was 15, in high school, and you know with Karen and stuff I wasn't exactly the most well behaved girl around. I was really rude to him, I mean… I asked for something, and no I won't tell you what, and he gave it to me. Then, I felt bad and asked him to take it back but he refused so we fought and I won… Well, if you could call that winning. After, he was bitter and angry and we never met again."  
Charlie feigned shock and mocked Sarah. "Don't tell me you turned him on and before doing it, you ran away."  
"Charlie!"   
"What?" Charlie laughed. "It happened to me! The guy spread all those horrid rumors about me, after in school."  
"Poor baby." Sarah commented dryly.  
"Sarah…" Charlie said again..  
Sarah snapped at her, upset. "What?"  
"I think that song's for you." The sudden serious voice and thoughtful look on Charlie's face shocked Sarah.

"What the hell are you talking about?"  
"Look, I read his interview and I…" Charlie bent down to reach the magazine that Sarah had let escaped from her fingers. "Let's read it again…" She flipped it open and looked for the article.  
"Charlie, are you…"    
But Charlie wasn't listening. "Ah! 'I wrote almost all the songs myself, except for 'Give her the passion' which my sister actually wrote for me but I changed it to accommodate my voice and well, I'm a man so I changed the pronouns.'" She read aloud.  
Sarah impatiently asked her. "Charlie, what does…"   
But Charlie cut her again. "Listen, here it is: 'Yes, there's a muse, in fact there's 2. My sister first. This album was written for her, an ultimate dedication.' 'And the second one?' 'Secret. It's a girl I know.' See! It has to be you!" Charlie concluded triumphantly.    
"Charlie!" Sarah didn't know why, but she felt her cheeks turned red again. "I met him when I was 15, I'm almost 28 now. It's been 14 years, he must have forgotten me!"  
Charlie didn't miss the sudden blush on Sarah's face. "Well, we won't know until we ask him!" She grinned.  
"What?"  
"He and his band are giving a small concert in a nightclub, a few blocks from here, tomorrow night." Charlie explained. "I got us tickets. In fact, I was here to get you addicted to this guy but, now…" She let her voice trail, rolling her eyes, still grinning.  
"No way."  
Charlie was taken aback. "What?"   
"I said no way." Sarah stated firmly, crossing her arms under her breasts. But, a part of her mind whispered suddenly, if it was Jareth and he was giving a concert near her place, maybe she could steal a glance at him, after all it's been 14 years… Sarah angrily crushed that part, hoping that Charlie had missed the inner battle.  
"Why not?" Charlie whined.  
"What portion in 'no way' didn't you get?" Sarah bit back. In the background, since Charlie had hit replay, the song was still playing softly.  
"Oh, come on, Sarah! If he truly has forgotten you, then you risk nothing." Charlie smiled and put solemnly a hand on her heart. "I promise I won't do anything to embarrass you in front of him." Sarah giggled. "But, if I'm right… You've got nothing to lose, here." Charlie quickly added.

_But I will love you  
It's a promise  
__D'you hear  
What I'm saying?  
  
___

_I'm gonna love you!  
I'm gonna love you…  
  
_

Sarah was losing it. She sighed again and let herself convinced. Oh, it'd be nice to see him again, even from far away. Besides in a nightclub full of people and smoke, he wouldn't be able to see her, anyway, and she wasn't going to look for his attention… All she had to make sure was that Steward had his wife in check. "Alright." She raised her voice to cover the excited squeal. "But, when I say we leave, we leave! Got me? Hotty, handsome, phone number or whatever, we leave without a fuss and before you can spell your own name!" 

Charlie rolled her eyes and laughed. "Whatever, I'm a married woman, you know?" She asked Sarah, raising her left hand to show Sarah her ring.  
Sarah laughed too and confessed. "I just got carried away." The female giggled till a male voice asked them from the doorway.  
"By what?" Sarah and Charlie jumped on their feet, screaming in surprise.  
"Steward!" Charlie yelled, annoyed. Her husband was grinning like a devil. Steward was taller than Sarah, who was already tall for a woman. He had spiky brown hair and a pair of small rectangular glasses covered his green eyes.   
"How did you get in there?" Sarah asked him.

Steward pushed his glasses up his nose and gave Sarah a hurt look. "You gave me a spare key to your apartment."  
This surprised Sarah a great deal. "Did I?"   
"You gave one to Charlie too." Steward shook his head, loosening his tie, after dropping his suitcase on Sarah's table.  
"Really?" Sarah asked again. She really should be careful and remember who she gave those keys. She berated herself.   
"Anyway, why are you so excited?" Steward asked, sitting on the chair next to the couch, as both women were sitting back on it. "I heard you screaming from the lounge." 

Charlie leaned and gave him a quick kiss in the hair while Sarah told him. "Your wife was destroying my carpet with her drooling."  
"Sarah!" Charlie whirled around.

Steward laughed and winked at Sarah while Charlie was busy blushing. "That would explain the weird message I got on my cell phone…" Alarmed, Charlie turned her head back to Steward and glared, promising death if he kept on. But, Steward beautifully ignored her. "I was in a business meeting when I got it and since it was boring, I decided to listen to it. Believe me, Sarah, I thought I was going to die from laughter and embarrassment!" He and Sarah laughed while Charlie roared, jumping on her feet again.

"YOU ARE SO SLEEPING ON THE COUCH TONIGHT!" She told him, pointing her finger to him. Steward caught her by the waist and pulled to make her fall in his lap. 

Charlie was fighting against him, but Steward kept on. Since Charlie was smaller than Sarah by a head, her struggle didn't give Steward problem, so she stopped and pouted on his lap. "Anyway, all I could hear was 'I got one! I got one! Back off, you bitch!' then some yelling, you know like when someone is getting murdered." Sarah laughed so hard that tears threatened to fall from her eyes, while Steward chuckled lightly.  
"There were only a limited number of CD on sales today, since it's the first day. These are special." Charlie defended herself, but it only elicited more laughter from her two companions.

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_I'm trapped  
I'm lost  
__I'm walking in circles  
I love you already  
  
___

_Even if I feel  
That I'm wearing myself out  
Looking out for you  
Arms extended  
  
_

_In this frightening  
Labyrinth  
Too complicated  
And twisted  
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The following night, found Sarah, dressed in tight black pants and a small red tank top, sitting at the table of a reputed nightclub, sipping on her drink, repressing a laugh as Steward, next to her, was trying desperately to calm his overexcited little wife. 

But Charlie calmed down by herself as the announcer jumped on the stage and said. "Welcome, ladies and gent. Well, more ladies than gentlemen here." He grinned, obviously not bothered at all by the important amount of females in the club. "But I guess you're all here to see the Kings on scene, right? Anyway, here they are!" He disappeared in a thunder of clapping hands and excited yelling.

But at least one female in the room wasn't cheering. "The Kings. What a crappy name." Sarah shook her head. "Obvious, Jareth, I thought you were more subtle, you disappoint me…" Sarah took a sip of her drink and Steward who was in charge, eyed her wearily.   
"Sarah, are you talking to your drink?" He asked, blinking. He had never seen Sarah throwing herself like she had done tonight, on alcohol. Sure, he had seen her drunk several times, but she had never seen to eager to be completely ripped before. A smile crossed his lips, maybe Charlie was right, he thought, maybe Sarah really knows that guy but is scared to meet him again…

Sarah turned her head towards him but over the noise, she hadn't heard what Steward had said. "What?"   
Steward shook his head and smiled. "Nothing." He yelled, trying to cover the noises from the fans.

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When suddenly, with the curtains still closed, a deep and rich, male voice rose as the first notes of a piano resonated. The room fell suddenly silent and the curtains slowly opened. Sarah's hands clutched around her drink as her heart started to beat faster.

_At night, the town is quiet like the bottom of the ocean  
I continue down the road by myself  
Guided by the distant voice  
I keep searching for the soft blue light_

And Jareth was there. He was sitting at the piano while his two companions were on each side of him, the female with a classic guitar and the man an electrified one. Someone was sitting behind the drums, but Sarah didn't know who he was. Actually, she didn't even pay attention to any other than the central figure playing the piano. She followed his long and slender gloved fingers, her gaze looking up, tracing his arms under the black leather jacket on the black pants and black shirt. The fairness of his skin was even more accentuated now dressed in black, his hair had been cut short and his mismatched eyes were closed. But it was Jareth. She couldn't doubt anymore. 

Hey I discoverer myself within  
And my heart calls out to me  
No matter how far away I am, I can hear it

         Earlier, Charlie had asked her how her day had been. She had murmured a 'fine' but Charlie had only smiled back, with her little and so annoying know-it-all-smile, just like him, after all. In fact, her day had been a real hell, between the lack of sleep and the choice of what to wear and what make-up. Then the debate with her inner self on if she was happy or not to see him. Then the debate on what to wear: something to look ravishing, or to look cute, or to look indifferent. Her day had been a real hell.

_The silver light burns within every room  
I walk around hoping for it anywhere surely___

            That was when Sarah realized that he had opened his eyes and that the other members were playing the soft melody with their leader. That was when she realized she was in his sight and for an odd moment she thought that he was staring at her. Air started to grow scare in Sarah's lungs. Maybe that was why she gulped down her drink, scaring Steward out of his mind.

Hey I found you  
And so without leaving you again  
No matter how much I hurt inside I'll always be near you  
I'll never release   
Your hand that I held

         He was staring at her! Several heads among the public had turned several times in her direction to look at her, to see what the singer was staring at. Without minding Steward attempts to prevent her from ordering another drink, Sarah asked for three more. 

_Hey I found you  
And so, without leaving you again  
No matter how much I hurt inside I'll always be near you  
Forever  
Forever_

When the waitress came back with her three drinks, Steward snatched one away from Sarah, looking at her with horrified eyes. Sarah only shrugged back and emptied the first glass. Now, she was sure Jareth was looking at her, since the gruff was smiling, his mismatched eyes dancing, as if he was mocking her.

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She was so drunk… Sarah was leaning against one of the walls outside the club. Steward had managed to get her and Charlie, ripped to the tits too, out of the club before getting kicked out and he was currently trying to convince Charlie to stop singing on the top of her lungs Jareth's songs.

The small concert had ended after four songs and the group had disappeared behind the curtains again. But, Sarah was sure she had seen Jareth winking at her. That was why she actually was in that state, anyway. Suddenly the floor seemed to be really welcoming and the idea of laying on it sounded wonderful. 

Sarah slowly drifted toward the ground when a strong hand caught her.  "Hello, Sarah." Sarah looked up and a pair of twinkling mismatched eyes welcomed her.

..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..

Well, I'm always evil in the first chapter of my story… Ha! Ha! Ha! Hum… 

A drunk Sarah, Jareth as a singer, a wish and add in there two mischievous friends, a desperate husband trying vainly to hold his wife down, a couple of problems, oversensitive nerves, some sinful musings and a ghost. Shake it all and here's "Wishes"! 

Hope you liked the first little bit, see you around. 

mikim


	2. An Oppenent Met Troubles Follow

Hum, hum… * blush * hum, here's come why this fic is rated R. Run for your lives, kiddoes, if you don't stand alcohol and well, some of the possible consequences… 

The others, have fun. (And no, I've never been drunk enough to lose my mind.) 

Standards Disclaimers Apply. Songs belong to their rightful authors. 

Songs of precedent chapters: 

I'd like to love you: Canadian singer called Lynda Lemay who's both author and singer. Ningyo Hime: credit song of Chobits TV SHOW. 

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.Chapter 2.

An Opponent met. Troubles follow.

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The excited screams in the club and the heavy cheering brought a sad smile to his thin lips. Once more, he tugged on his gloves and saw Sariel's smug smile at his gesture. Damn Sariel. He always knew when Jareth was feeling uncomfortable, maybe because he had spent almost all his life watching over Jareth. Just like she did. 

         Gritting his teeth against the memories, Jareth ran a hand in his short blond hair. Short blond hair: at least, after three years, the hair was finally coming back to cover his eyes but they were no longer reaching his shoulders. The thought brought another bitter smile to his lips. After Millibel's death, he had cut them, shorter than he ever had in his life, as a symbol of his mourning. His mother had snorted at his appearance on the funeral day and his father didn't even try to hide his contempt at the gesture. 

Men cut their hairs in that fashion only when the High King was dead. And it wasn't their father that laid there, in the crystal coffin he had conjured for the funeral, but his sister, their only daughter and first child and they didn't even shed a tear. Jareth tugged on his gloves again, harder than he had thought he would. He felt more than saw Sariel's confused, then sad gaze on him and it unnerved him further. 

         The man, on the other side of the curtains, was finally leaving the stage and without waiting for the men to open them, Jareth let his fingers ran on the piano. Millibel had taught him the piano. One these cold, rainy days, in the citadel, where there was nothing to do but sit, Millibel had encouraged him to come next to her and play with her. With a small sigh, he recognized the melody his fingers had without his consent started to play. Naturally, his voice rose above the air and screams and he slowly closed his eyes but not before seeing Sariel's startled gaze as he recognized the song. He also heard, behind him, the sharp inhale of breath Iome took as she too remembered the song. The curtains opened.

         Jareth knew Sarah was there. When she had walked in his realm, magic had touched her, never really leaving her. She never had enough magic to feel or see things the others couldn't, what his kin could, but it was far more than enough for him to feel her, to feel her presence near him. The bait had caught her and the trap was set. He opened his eyes slowly.

..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..

         Sarah was gulping down her… What? Sixth drink in less than an hour? And Jareth had to smirk. He and Sariel were standing in the shadows of the stage, after their small concert, watching the crowd. Iome was somewhere, wandering, probably flirting with anything that looked like between 21 and 26 years old, males or females. 

         Sariel too had changed after her death, Jareth mused as he sensed the older man moved behind him to lean against a wall, giving up spying the crowd. Jareth threw a glance behind him and saw Sariel pick up a cigarette, a habit he had taken here in the Aboveground, from his jacket, lightening the thing up and bringing it to his lips. Jareth's steady gaze watched his old friend and in the dim light, he saw the hollows his face now bore. Hollows that were deepening with days. Jareth flickered his eyes downward and he realized how frail Sariel's shoulders seemed to be as the man exhaled the smoke of his cigarette. Jareth used to ride these very shoulders when he was small. He remembered how tall and broad-shouldered Sariel had appeared to be in his young eyes, how delighted he had been to be placed so high in the air. 

         But, that was a matter where he couldn't poke his nose in. Millibel's death was still too fresh in his heart and he wasn't feeling strong enough to care for another's wounds when his were still bleeding. Jareth looked back at Sarah. She was ordering another drink and the man besides her looked horrified. For a fleeting moment, Jareth's eyes narrowed, but then he saw the small woman, at the man's right, on whom he had his arms around, bringing him down for a ravenous kiss. Sarah burst in laughter and so did the other woman. Jareth smiled again, like a predator. Sarah was drunk.

..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..

         He was waiting for her to come out of the club, staring up at the sky, leaning on the wall, his hands buried in his pockets. Sariel had to stay behind to prevent those crazy fan girls from following him and he was currently hiding in the dark street just next to the club, where the backstage door was. Jareth thought that for a moment, in the club, he had been that close to break one of the fundamental laws of his kin: he had been itching to bust that boy who had been hitting on her and since Sarah was too drunk to distinguish her right from her left, the boy had thought it was in the bag. Jareth had suddenly felt his anger flare up at a speed that surprised him and he was already pushing his way to Sarah when Sariel's hand had fallen on his shoulder to restrain him. 

When Jareth had turned his attention back to Sarah, after a few chosen words for Sariel and his anatomy, he saw that Sarah's male friend, the only one sober, had sent the boy looking elsewhere, while he had an arm around a laughing and really drunk Sarah the other supporting the other woman. The man had then tried to convince the two laughing women to walk, or rather to lean on him, while he would drag them to the exit. 

         Jareth's eyes flickered back to the main exit of the club as the sound of one of his songs reached his ears: it was Sarah's female friend who was singing completely off-tune, at the top of her lungs. Sarah and her two friends were slowly walking, leaving the club and its crowd behind them. On an impulse, Jareth didn't let them know of his presence and he followed them. Then, suddenly, the smaller woman freed her limbs from the man's grip and as Jareth watched, while he drifted closer, walking behind them in the shadows, the man put Sarah against a wall, and ran, panicked to the other woman to calm her down, as she had begun another song of his. But what interested Jareth was that Sarah seemed to be really willing to be introduced more intimately to the pavement.

..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..

            His hand caught her just in time and Sarah looked up slowly. The dim light of the public light, a few feet behind him, lit up Sarah's face with its yellow glow, but Jareth could have sworn she had never looked prettier: her black hair had been held up earlier, in a low pun, but with all her laughing and being drunk, the hairstyle had fallen out, some strands of her black hair framing her face gently. 

The light was falling on her face from his shoulder, lightening up only her brow and eyes, while her deep red lips were in the light shadows cast by his form on her. In the light, her green eyes seemed to sparkle with hints of gold. She had put some make-up, which gave her skin a sparkling glow intensifying her gaze. She had never been prettier than this instant: looking up at him, with wonder, her eyes sparkling because of the laugh in them, her red lips turned up in a small smile, her hair falling all around her. He couldn't have been more content, even if he knew that look would be short-lived.

Jareth smiled down on her: he had expected her to run away, to scream at him, to ignore him or even to shove her fist on his nose, but not to be completely wasted. Sarah always had a way to surprise him. "Hello, Sarah." He said quietly while her eyes widened in recognition. Now comes the screaming and swearing. Jareth thought and he braced himself for the incoming storm. 

But, what Sarah did was completely unexpected: she jumped on him, hugging the life out of him, taking him completely off guard.  
As usual with Sarah, he thought as he closed his arms around her to steady her.  
"Jareth!!!" She screamed, drunkenly, happily. Embarrassed, Jareth felt a blush coming up to his cheeks, feeling all the soft curves of Sarah's partially covered body against his own. He swallowed hard and refused to feel too comfortable in her embrace.   
She's drunk! He tried to convince himself but his body ignored him and gladly reacted to Sarah's closeness. After dreaming of the moment for fourteen years, Jareth's body wasn't going to let the rational part to take the lead. Oh, no!

..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..

         Jareth was there!   
He was holding her, preventing her from falling on the pavement! Sarah looked in his mismatched eyes and realized she hadn't seen him in what? Fourteen long years. So, she threw her arms around her neck and cried happily, greeting him.   
"Jareth!!!" He smelled so nice and his body was so warm against her own! Jareth really had a wonderful body… 

         Sarah stumbled backwards a little, placing her hands on Jareth's shoulders and looked up and down at him, grinning contently at what she saw. Then she jumped on him again.   
"Jareth!" She thrilled again and hugged him tighter, laughing happily. What was she laughing for? Even Sarah didn't know.

..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..

         "Sa-… Sarah!" He spluttered. Damn it, he never splutters! When she had backed away a little to check him out, Jareth had felt a growing disturbance in the lower region of his traitorous body. He would have managed to calm himself down, if Sarah, sweet, gentle, so drunk Sarah hadn't jumped in his arms again, pulling him in a bear hug, plastering her right and soft curves against his body, again. Damn it! He never remarked that his arms tightened around her lithe frame when she lost her footing, as she was laughing. 

         "Hey you!" Somebody yelled angrily and Jareth glanced up, blushing. Damn it. Sarah's male friend was carrying Sarah's other friend on his back. Jareth had completely forgotten about these two. The man had brown spiky hair and a pair of green eyes, currently glaring at Jareth under the rim of his thin rectangular glasses, which were angling dangerously down his nose, as the woman on his back was clumsily, drunkenly, trying to trail kisses down his neck. The woman looked up and laughed once more. "I was right!" She screamed, "Sarah is in love with Jareth!! You owe me ten, pal…" She slumped back on the man's back and fell promptly asleep while the man sighed. 

         "Stew!!!!!!" Sarah yelled and she detached herself from Jareth and tried to run to Steward, arms extended, for a hug. But, she mistook the distance between her and Steward and started to fall again, when Jareth caught her again by the waist, from behind, saving her from another intimate rendezvous with the pavement. Sarah laughed and locked her arms around Jareth's neck, slowly turning on the circle of his arms while Jareth talked to Steward. "I'm Jareth Bane. One of Sarah's old… friends." Jareth added with a wry smile. 

"Steward Thompson." The man said, as he shifted the woman on his back gently, in order to ease the nervousness plaguing his shoulders, making him uneasy. "I've never heard Sarah talking about you and I know her…" Steward let his voice trail as he watched, taken aback, Sarah kissing deeply the singer, much to the latter's surprise, by his widened eyes and stunned expression. 

..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..

         Jareth felt so nice next to her! His warmth made her crave for more, the feel of his gloved hands on her bare arms kept on giving her ideas and she shivered with delight, when she turned in his arms to face him, as his hands ran almost without him noticing on her arms again. The feel of cold leather against her warm skin, running on it, making chills ran down her arms where his hands touched her, arousing her. Damn. She was always feeling so horny when she was drunk… And Jareth was so warm and sweet, supporting her like that and all… Jareth…

         Sarah glanced up and without him realizing it, her hands shot forward and grabbed Jareth by the collar, pulling him down to meet her eager lips.

..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..

         Sarah was kissing him. She had pulled hard on his collar to bring his mouth down and she had taken advantage of his gasp of surprise to slide her tongue in his mouth and curling it with his. 

Really unsettling. Jareth thought. 

         His arms wounded around her, crushing her against him and he groaned his approval when Sarah let go of his collar to put her arms around his neck, bringing him closer in the process, then her hands started to caress his back. She had her tongue do something to his, what he didn't know but he wanted her to do it again. Unfortunately for him, she darted back her tongue in her own mouth, daring him to come and take what he wanted. He could feel her smile against his lips: she was enjoying torturing him. 

         Her maddening fingers couldn't go further than his shoulder-blades, so she wrapped them around his waist, snuggling a little, brushing her body against his, making him grow breathless and he panted in her mouth, not really believing what was going on. But, he wanted to kiss her again. He wanted to deepen that kiss. He wanted to taste her more than that. He wanted, he wanted so much… 

Groaning, he caressed her tongue with his, one of his hands trying to bring her even closer to him, his other arm curling around her shoulders as he had no intention of releasing Sarah. When she purred, as he let go of her mouth for the smooth skin of her neck, his mind went blank and he didn't even know when his left hand had cupped her bottom, or when she had put her knee behind his leg for better support or when his thumb started teasing the suddenly hardening nipple, but, then, he hadn't felt when Sarah's hand reached his butt to caress it.

..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..

         Iome jumped as the hand slapped her harder than it was probably meant to be at first. To Sariel's defense, it had to be said that he wasn't looking what he was doing: his eyes were focused on the pair eating each other's faces and since he really didn't want Iome to spoil the mood with one of her trademark squeals, he had put his hand over her mouth. Iome poked him in the ribs and he let go, after casting a fleeting glance in her direction. She and Sariel were standing in a dark alley, a block from the club. They were watching their King and his reunion with the mortal who had bested him. 

         Iome grinned smugly, not minding at all Sariel lack of consideration, after all, he was as stunned as she was to see her King kissing, well making out, the woman he had been mooning over for years now. Iome glanced up at Sariel next to her and saw the man's face crept up with the first genuine smile in three long years, since her death. 

         Sariel smiled slowly, watching Sarah and Jareth kiss. He was happy, he truly was. A part of his promise to Millibel was almost fulfilled. The smile turned mischievous and he whispered. "Only truth would be allowed to pass the barrier, heart, mind and body as one, this will be as I proclaim it to be, I, Sariel the Watcher." The wind took the spell and wrapped it around Jareth and his ladylove. He had seen Sarah trying to drown herself in alcohol, but thanks to this, it could give them a little push in the right direction.

         Iome heard Sariel's strange declaration and watched him sharply, narrowing her blue eyes. She then growled in frustration as she recognized what he had done and she punched him hard in the stomach. 

"Ouch! What was that for?" Sariel hissed over his breath, as Iome dragged him further in the dark alley to give him her piece of mind without being disturbed.

"Are you crazy?" Iome snarled, looming over him, "You've just used magic!" She accused him and Sariel just smiled.

"Silly girl," Sariel said, shaking his head, "not even able to recognize instinctive magic from normal magic."

"What!" She stomped her foot angrily. 

"I was born with the gift of making what I say happens when I will it in a spell!" Sariel leaned on her, making her back away in front of him.  Sariel straightened up and looked down at Iome. "Remember, I am the one who tells the truth! Silly girl, instinctive magic is as natural for me as breathing is or changing forms for Jareth or locating people for you. You don't need magic for that, do you? It's natural! It's the same with me, it's a mere gift and the Council can't sense that magic here as it's my personal and instinctive talent. Do pay attention when I'll resume my lecturing on magic. We're getting back home." Sariel shook his head and took a fuming Iome by her elbow, leading her to the other end of the alley.

..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..

         "Only truth would be allowed to pass the barrier, heart, mind and body as one, this will be as I proclaim it to be, I, Sariel the Watcher."

Jareth broke the kiss, breathless, as he thought he had heard Sariel speak in his ear. Puzzled, he turned his head in the alley to see if he could spot his friends, but Sarah had never liked to be ignored.

         "I want you." She slurred before catching his lips again, tiptoeing. That was when Jareth came back to his senses or tried to. He had to stop that kiss now, otherwise Sarah, when sober, would have his head. She'll be mad at him for what they were doing but… If he had heard Sariel, if he had really heard Sariel, then, then, maybe…

..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..

         Steward blinked once, twice, thrice, then he rubbed his eyes, waking Charlie in the process. Charlie looked up and saw… Saw Sarah trying to rape a horrified man in a deserted street at maybe four in the morning. Charlie squirmed on Steward's back and he let her down, still staring as Sarah slid a hand in the man's jacket while her other hand was going lower and lower. 

Charlie was still feeling a little light headed but she had an incredible stamina to absorb and erase the alcohol effects. Sure, she'd have a headache the next morning, but nothing a painkiller pill couldn't resolve. Steward and Sarah had often complained about the unfairness of the whole thing but it only made her grin wider. 

Therefore, she was sober enough to understand and register everything to blackmail Sarah later… That would be fun to force Sarah to spill her real feelings for the singer.

..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..

         Sarah's right hand had finally found its way inside his jacket, while her fingers of her left hand fumbled with the lower buttons of his vest. Jareth moaned. Damn it… Sarah was… 

         Jareth abruptly pushed Sarah away, his hands on her shoulders, his breathing raged and heart beating at a way too fast rate to his liking. Jareth tried to swallow and say her name. But, when pushing her away, his eyes had fallen on her face, her partly-closed lids, heavy with desire and her red, full lips which seemed to hold so many promises while her hands were trying to reach out for him. 

..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..

         Steward cleared his throat loudly and Jareth's bewildered eyes left his tormentor face for a while to find Sarah's friends ones. That was when Jareth realized he was panting. 

"Hum…" Steward scratched his cheek, sign that he was embarrassed. If the look on Jareth's face had been less wild, completely surprised and tormented, he would have certainly burst in laughter, but then, somehow the male bonding made him feel pity for the man. "I suppose I should let Sarah in your… care." Steward put a hand on Charlie's shoulder, he shouldn't leave that man with Sarah, not that he feared what he could do to her, rather what she could do to him, but Charlie was Sarah's second best friend and his wife. A man should be selfish when his woman was involved. Or rather prudent. "Charlie and I are getting back home. Night." 

Steward sent a mixed look of guilt and sadness, one telling Jareth he would have helped him if his wife wasn't grinning so broadly and practically beaming with approval and enthusiasm.

"Wait!" Jareth called after them, as Steward forced Charlie to walk away. The pair stopped and looked back at him. "I…" He mainly didn't want to be alone with Sarah! Who knew what she could do and what his reaction could be! "I, well, I don't know where she lives and-" Jareth jumped in surprise as Sarah bit him gently. "Sarah!" He choked.

"What?" She asked, grinning. "You want this as much I want it to happen." She whispered as she advanced on him again.

"Sa-Sarah!" Jareth tried to hold her far from his body, but Sarah wasn't meeting too much resistance as his hands were shaking. Sarah had definitely changed over the years and he was still powerless in front of her. 

She slid her arms around his waist, resting her head against his heart. "Say my name again?" One of her hand sneaked lower till Jareth's left hand caught it.

"Stop!" He roared.

Steward and Charlie looked at themselves and Steward sent her a pleading look to which Charlie rolled her eyes. Steward then called towards Jareth. "Help?"

"Yes!" Came the relieved answer. 

Now, that was settled. Jareth breathed in relief as Steward and his wife walked closer. Sarah was to be back home with her friends while he would go back his, dig a hole in Sariel's thick skull with a coffee spoon, have a freezing shower then slump in bed and try to sleep. That would be good. He would the next morning go to Sarah's and explain. Hopefully, she wouldn't accuse him of taking advantage of her drunken state.

From his arms, Charlie pulled on Sarah's arm, telling her gently, like to a child. "Come on Sarah, let's get you back home."

But Sarah was a little bigger than a child and a lot more stubborn. "No." 

"Sarah…" Steward tried to admonish her, but Sarah cut him firmly.

"I want Jareth."

"Argh."

Steward, concerned, looked down at the sudden bent Jareth. "You okay?" He knew what Jareth was feeling. The poor guy was "uncomfortable" as Charlie so nicely put it and Steward felt sympathetic to him. After all, the two of them were in the same situation: in the hands of two women who once their minds were set wouldn't budge a hair from their path to get what they wanted.

"In a minute." He whispered hoarsely. 

Steward nodded in understanding and pulled Sarah after him. "Come on, in the car, I'll drive you home."

But Sarah realized her toy was denied from her grasp and so she did the only sensible thing to her, she yelled. "JARETH!" 

A chill ran down his spine and Jareth knew he couldn't resist the pleading tone and the desperate look she sent after him. So he quickly called after her as he jogged to where Charlie, Steward and Sarah were. "I'm coming, I'm coming."   
Thank Gods I'm wearing that long vest… Jareth thought, with a dry smile.

Sarah, Steward and Charlie were standing near a red little car with only two doors and Steward had the driver door opened while the seat was tipped to let Sarah and Jareth, since Sarah didn't want to release him, in.

"Poor guy." Charlie shook her head as Sarah jumped in his arms again. 

"Shut up…" Jareth growled, trying to catch Sarah's hands before they decided to explore again. "Who are you?" He suddenly asked.

"His wife." Charlie grinned, pointing her thumb in Steward's direction, as she walked around the car to get into the passenger front seat. "And Sarah's other best friend. Nice to meet you."

On the other side of the car, Steward whistled in surprise. "Wow. That was impressive." 

Charlie whirled around and told him flatly. "Shut up." She then smiled to him gently to soften her tone. "Besides, how do you want me to get hyper when Sarah's all plastered to him like that?" Charlie rolled her eyes, while Steward burst in laughter. Throwing a glance behind her again, Charlie saw Jareth try to stop Sarah from crying as she wanted to kiss him again. 

"Sa-Sarah…" He tried to hold her down but if she started to cry, he'd be doomed. Steward then ushered Sarah in the car but Sarah, pulling on Jareth's arm, her hand glued to him, took him after her. As he sat, she threw her arms around his neck again while his hands were on her waist, preventing her to notice his growing discomfort. 

Her eyes gleaming, Sarah looked up to him and locked her eyes with hers. He couldn't look away nor blinking at the emotions whirling in them, nor could he understand them fully. 

"I'm attracted to you…" She whispered. "I've always been." Charlie's face broke with a huge grin and Steward restrained himself from turning the radio on as his wife leaned closer to the pair in the backseat, while he started the engine and pulled the car on the familiar road to Sarah's close apartment. "I didn't understand when you sang the first time because of your stupid peach." 

Jareth was staring down at her, his breathing quickening as Sarah's voice dropped lower again. His hands on her waist started to tremble so lightly and when she leaned on him, again, he didn't stop her. Sarah came closer, bringing her mouth just above his ear and whispered, her hot breath teasing. "I missed you."

"Peach?" Charlie repeated in a whisper, looking at Steward who was driving.

Steward only shrugged back. "Don't ask me, I don't know!" He exclaimed, as Charlie turned to him, one of her eyebrow up in a silent question. Thankfully for both males, they arrived near Sarah's old building. "Here we are." Steward said with a smile and a quick glance in the rearview confirmed him that Jareth was feeling as relieved as he was. Gulping, he pushed Sarah away while Steward opened the door and tipped the seat again. 

Jareth got out, Sarah's hand in his. "Sarah, come on." He said, not looking at her. Steward sent him a wry smile and Jareth nodded in thank. Sarah stumbled outside the car and fell on Jareth's back. He looked behind at her to see that she was pouting nicely.

"Carry me?" She asked, a pleading look in her eyes.

Jareth turned around. "Sarah…"

"Please?" She wrapped her arms around his neck once more.

Jareth sighed and ran a hand in his hair, before sweeping her off her feet, one of his arms secured under her knees, the other supporting her back. "Come on, hold on tight." He told her, as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Sure…" Sarah purred. 

Jareth gulped and blinked. Damn it. Sexy Kitty Drunk Sarah. Stress on Drunk, pal.  

"Sa-Sarah, I put you in bed and that's it. You're drunk and you probably…" He was so rudely interrupted by warm lips pressed against his own and a teasing tongue caressing his own. Then all too fast, the invaders retreated, leaving him crave for more, his own lips following her retreated ones, before he could stop himself from encouraging her.

"You're saying?" She asked and as he didn't answer, she instructed him, pointing at the entrance of her building. "Third floor. Elevator broken. Damn." She swore as she pushed the entrance door open for him.

Jareth finally snapped out of it. "What?" He cursed inwardly at all the little angels and gods probably laughing their heads off at him. How could Sarah affect him so? Sure, Sariel's little spell was for something, but it wasn't supposed to be that strong. It was only a truth-telling bonding spell, but even if he tried to cancel it, Sarah's soft curves against his chest were starting to make him uncomfortable, once more. And she wasn't helping him either in that matter, purring in his ear like she was doing, as he stood in the doorframe.

"You've never had any fantasy?" She purred in his ear, her voice dropping an octave turning husky. "Like doing it in an elevator?" Her warm breath was pure torture.

"Bye, bye, Sarah!" Charlie called, breaking the electrified-crackling atmosphere allowing Jareth to breathe.

"See you, Charlie!" Sarah called back and Jareth was glad she had her attention on something else. 

Where did he lose it? When she first kissed him? When she said his name? When she jumped in his arms the first time? Where did he lose it? Things weren't supposed to be this way. He wasn't supposed to carry her home, he was a King, holy shit. Where the hell did he lose it? 

"Call you tomorrow!" Charlie called again and the car disappeared in the night and Sarah let the door close behind them. As the door slammed closed, Jareth felt a cold shiver ran down his spine.

Sarah turned her attention back to Jareth, "So, in this elevator…" But Jareth interrupted her, by kicking the service door open.

"Hold tight." He pushed through his gritted teeth, focusing with all his might on climbing the stairs. He had survived fourteen years, 'that' could wait a little longer, like until she was sober.

"Whatever you want." Sarah tightened her hold on his neck, pushing her chest further against his. Damn little tease.

"Sarah, you're drunk." Jareth said firmly, climbing the stairs as fast as he could, the faster he got her into her house, the sooner he could be out of this hell.

Sarah leaned on him and whispered, looking at him through half-closed lids. "Not enough for you to be accused of taking advantage of me but enough to know what to do to get what I want."  

Maybe it was because she was staring at his lips or his at hers, or maybe because she ran a little pink tongue on her upper lip, taunting, but Jareth's breathing quickened, but at least, he knew it wasn't from the exercise of climbing, at four in the morning, carrying Sarah, the three floors leading to her apartment.

"I'm going to kill Sariel for that!" He groaned under his breath.

"What?" Sarah looked up at him.

"Nothing." He refused to meet her bewitching gaze and focused on the stairs once more. A heavenly silence for Jareth fell between the two of them as Jareth decided that maybe counting the stairs would help. One, two, three…

"I like when you're panting like that…"  Sarah murmured suddenly, breaking the silence.

Fifteen, no, five, damn it!

"SARAH!" He growled dangerously. 

"What? It makes you look more human!"

Jareth stopped climbing the stairs and stared down at her, his face unreadable. "I'm human." He said, softly. He resumed walking, and arrived in the front of a door with a big three painted on it. He pushed it open with a foot and crept into the dark hall.

"No, you're not, you're a Fae." Sarah said, pushing on the switcher, illuminating the hall. "That door." She pointed to the farthest door on the left.

A sad smile crossed his lips, as if deciding against something before nodding to her. Arriving in front of her door, he ordered her. "Right, open the door."

"The key is here." Sarah moved in his arms, showing him her pants right pocket.

"Sarah…" Jareth moaned in defeat and reached for the key.

As he had his hand in her pocket, Sarah leaned and whispered in his ear again. "I like the way you say my name too…" Jareth froze and his breathing quickened, she was a real little devil.

Quickly, Jareth put Sarah down and opened the door. He threw the key on the table inside and turned around to face her, he then frowned and announced. "Here, I'm going back home."

"No." Sarah said, her hands behind her back, blocking him.

"Excuse me?" He asked her, unbelieving. 

Witch. First, she had cast a spell on him, second she had obliged him, once more, to do anything she wanted and now she refused him his release. Witch indeed, but so pretty. And sexy.

Sarah walked on him but Jareth refused to back away in front of her. Where did Sarah learn all those tricks to run a man wild? "Liar." Sarah said, closing the door behind her. "You're just a liar." 

Jareth narrowed his eyes and he felt anger rose inside of him. Sarah was the only person that could so much strings on his heart at once. First desire, lust till it hurt, and now anger, along with something that existed ever since she had first laid her eyes upon him. Anger quickly ran in his veins, making his blood boil, burning his flesh and his resolve of leaving her faded like snow under a blazing summer sun. 

"I never lie, Sarah." He said, taking a step in her direction, forcing her to arch her neck up to look at him. He was going to make her regret what she had just said. He could be anything but not a liar. Never a liar.

If she hadn't been pushed by the alcohol remaining in her system, she would have recognized the fire and retreated slowly, but she had always been too bold with a drink in her system.

"Then, do you really want to go home?" She pushed further, her eyes locked with his.

"…No." Jareth admitted and a smile crept on his thin lips. So that was why. It wasn't another attempt to defy him, like she had done so many times in the past. He watched her with guarded eyes as Sarah's hand slowly raised to rest on his face, her fingers tracing gently his features, following the form of his jaw, tracing his lips.

"See, I always win." She whispered, exploring his face.

"Sarah…" He grabbed one of her hands and the other cupped his cheek. He kissed one of her fingers, looking in her eyes before saying. "That's because I always let you win…" His eyes burned in hers, making her shiver once more, and twitched with excitement, mixed with a little fear. 

But, she kept on, she was nearly there, a little more push and he'd be hers. "Sure…" Sarah rolled her eyes and Jareth's mouth suddenly caught her neck in a kiss.

"Try me." He whispered before sucking hard, making her gasp and dug her fingers almost painfully in his shoulder.

"That's what I've been asking for all night!" She whispered back urgently and Jareth released her flesh, groaning in approval. He looked up in her eyes. 

He shouldn't be doing this. He shouldn't. But he would, he had waited fourteen years, damn it, he deserved it. To hell with the consequences. He leaned quickly on her and captured her lips with his. Sarah had a way to crawl under his skin and turning him mad, but he couldn't live without her either. Screw it. He'd let his emotions rule him, for once and just once, then he'd get all back to business. Yeah, back to business…

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         Sarah awoke at the feeling of somebody's body against her back. The man had his hands on her bare chest, holding her tightly against his own, as he slept soundly behind her, as naked that she was. Sarah blinked once, then twice and was about to jump out of bed when the splitting headache, nice comeback of the hangover, raged like a fire sword in her skull. She moaned loudly as the room started to spin faster and for a moment she knew she was about to throw out. What the hell had happened the night before? 

         The man behind her started to move, as he was emerging from sleep's tender arms and Sarah stiffened immediately, her heart pounding, her headache relegated to a simple ache in the back of her mind. God Damnit, she had no doubt she had slept with the man, but who the hell was he? 

"Sarah." Her name was breathed just over her neck, tingling the smooth skin, as the man, still asleep, moved to hold her tighter. She knew that voice. Then she screamed, jumping out of bed.  
"What? What? What?" Jareth sat up in the bed like a little Jack-in-the-box, half-asleep. His short hair was pointing in every possible directions while he blinked, trying to get rid of the sleep in his eyes, the white cover around his slender waist, his pale skin having a golden gleam as the sunlight gently caressed it. 

Sarah's face paled as all her blood, ran cold in her veins, then as she had stood up too fast, her blood rushed back to her brain, making her feel dizzy and to help nothing, the headache decided it has suffered enough ignorance for now and came back in full force. Sarah held up a hand to her head and felt once more the floor spinning, as she moaned. 

Somehow, Jareth had crawled out of bed and was encircling her of his arms and the blanket. "Are you okay?"

"I think I'm going to be sick…" Sarah moaned and Jareth sighed. It wasn't either the way he had hoped his first morning with Sarah would happen. He could see a bathroom, next to Sarah's bedroom, and pulled her after him, gently.

"Come on." He encouraged her.

He supported her, as she knelt in front of the toilet, her head almost in it, holding her long black hair out of her face with one hand, while his other arm was around her waist, the blanket falling on his broad shoulders. 

"A bath?" He proposed, carefully arranging the blanket around them, as Sarah stood up. She hadn't threw up but she wasn't feeling all too well either.

A hand to her head, Sarah felt horrible. She didn't want to think of what had happened the night, or morning before. She hadn't the strength to do so. "What are you doing here?" She whispered as Jareth opened the taps. How could he know how to do that, when he was supposed to live in a Middle Ages castle touched her lightly but she dismissed it quickly, not wanting to question herself, now, on that.

Jareth looked at her thoughtfully, before slowly asking her. "… You don't remember?" He secured the blanket around them, carefully, avoiding her eyes.

"I do." Sarah shook her head and regretted immediately her movement, as a wave of nausea threatened to overcome her again, making her moan. "And I… I don't regret it or anything I've said." She confessed. She didn't want to argue with him right now nor did she want to discuss what had happened. 

So, it had happened, then good, but it was now the past and right now, the past mattered very little. The bath was so appealing, she just wanted to creep inside that bath and let the water recover her. Hopefully, she could get rid of that headache and forget the outside world for a while, like for a good soaking hour. Besides, right now, apart from that horrid headache, Sarah cared for very little.

"Look at me." Jareth forced her to look up by taking her by the chin but Sarah closed her eyes.

"Do I have to?" She asked tiredly.

"Why must you fight me even on the smallest things?" He wondered aloud, more to himself than to her.

"Beats me." She shrugged back and walked around him slowly to get into her salvation: the bathtub.

But, Jareth didn't allow her too. He wounded his arms around her waist too quickly for her to react and she didn't have the force nor the envy to push him away. "I don't regret either." He whispered, crushing her against his chest and Sarah froze.

"You stink." She remarked and Jareth made her turn around slowly.

"Thanks to you. You're blushing." He said smugly with a smile. "Here, princess, your bath will be ready shortly." He lifted her in his arms and deposited her in the bathtub, before sending the blanket back on Sarah's bedroom floor and step inside the tube with her.

Jareth was sitting in front of her, her feet on his lap, while his long legs were stretched on each side of her. He had smiled broadly when Sarah had quickly put some bath salts to start a bubble bath, his smile turning mischievous as the two of them remembered the night before and Sarah's forward behavior. Sarah moaned in embarrassment and Jareth didn't press the matter further nor did he speak once of what had happened. But he smirked when she blushed at the hickeys she found all over her body, sometimes in the most unexpected places. Just like she couldn't help but blush deeply when she spot some on him.

Sarah felt alive again as her headache slowly fading away, at the rhythm of the bubble floating in the air. She had tensed when Jareth had come in the bath with her and she had rushed to start a bubble bath but the hot water and the silence of her apartment was soothing her immensely. The hot water was relaxing her muscles and Jareth hadn't said a word, just smirk from times to times, but he hadn't said a word. Somewhere, she could hear a faint clock tick the seconds away gently and Sarah lowered herself in the bathtub, till the water came to her chin, closing her eyes, her feet, that Jareth had firmly placed on his lap, encircling carefully his waist. If only her head wasn't throbbing that much, she cold fall asleep on the spot.

Jareth watched her relaxed in the bath, forgetting his very presence and surprisingly, so was he. He was feeling relaxed and calm, he hadn't thought her awaking would be so smooth but then, he hadn't expected to jump at his neck and try to get him in her bed so hard, or so fast, for that matter. He had been so tensed the night before, but now he was just feeling relaxed. How could Sarah affect him so? How could his Sarah lay in a bathtub with him like that, now that he thought about it.

"Sarah, are you alright?" Jareth frowned as Sarah didn't answer, he knew she wasn't sleeping at the frown that quickly crossed her forehead when he had talked but something was wrong.

Sarah bit her lip, sighed heavily, before slowly opening her eyes, averting her gaze from his form, though. "Jareth, I…" She started, her hands raising to massage her temples, as she sat up in the bathtub.

"I know." He cut her, leaning forward, replacing her hands with his, massaging her temples to help her get rib of the pain. His skilled fingers made her lean towards him, eyes closed once more in bliss and she wondered if he was using magic. "Me too." He whispered. "I didn't want our first meeting in fourteen years to happen like that, but it's already happened and I don't regret it, so let's get over it, ok?" He proposed gently, stopping the movement of his fingers and she opened her eyes, seeing how close they were. 

In his eyes, was swirling something odd she couldn't recognize, but it was something familiar to her, something she had already seen. She was feeling oddly comfortable in Jareth's presence, seeing him naked had somehow destroyed the frightening aura she had always associated with him. Sure, she had fantasized about him naked, in her bed, but never she had dreamt of such feeling of familiarity and bond she felt with him or being as comfortable as she was now, naked in front of him, as if she was right she had always wanted to be. Sarah stared in his eyes, listening to the water drip slowly from his fingers still against her temples, immobile, watching his emotions swam over and over again in his mismatched orbs. 

"What are you doing here?" She suddenly whispered too, her eyes still locked with his.

"I'm a singer." He whispered back.

"Jareth!" She hissed, breaking the mood and crossed her arms over her breasts, leaning backwards.

Quickly, Jareth kneeled in front of her, water dripping over the rim of the tube as he moved, leaning on her. "Can't you guess?" He whispered hoarsely. "By all my previous actions, can't you guess?" His gaze burned hers and Sarah couldn't hold his long, she turned away, her headache coming back once more.

_All I've ever done, I've done it all for you! _His voice resonated in the secret of her mind and she winced, shutting her eyes closed.

Jareth raised his hands to her temples. "Why? Why now?" She asked, almost whining. Why only now? She barely restrained herself from saying.

The circling movement he displayed on her temples stilled for less than a second, but it was long enough for Sarah to notice. "It…" She heard him take a deep breath. "It took me time to get over your first… well, your travel in my Labyrinth."

Sarah opened her eyes and refused to meet his gaze, instead, she focused her attention to the top of his head. "What happened to your hair?" She suddenly asked.

"I cut it." 

"Well, that I can see that." She said dryly. "But why?"

"… I…" He suddenly got out of the tub, jaw clenched, and wrapped a white fluffy towel around his waist, lying nearby, under her curious eyes, and turned around slowly, telling her in a dull voice. "I had a sister, an older sister who died three years ago." He extended a hand towards her, without looking at her, reaching with the other one for another towel that he wrapped tightly around her when she came out.

"I'm sorry."

He only shook his head, saying nothing. 

And Sarah stared. Where was the Goblin King? The frightening male, the arrogant man and manipulative monarch that haunted her nights and thrilled her days. Was it another of his masks? She had already seen three: one known to the others as a singer, the other one she had met as the Goblin King of her childhood and now that one. An almost sweet lover but which was the truth? 

Under the white towel, Sarah shivered lightly and wished she could speak with Hoggle.

..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..

Without waiting for her, Jareth got out of the bathroom, back to Sarah's bedroom where he gathered his clothes, lying carelessly in every corners of the room. Sarah followed him, wearily, his sudden mood almost freezing her. If she had felt comfortable, she wasn't anymore. She felt cold and empty, she felt alone and sad. How could she have known? It wasn't her fault! Why was Jareth reacting so badly? Sure, it was horrible, but how on earth could she have guessed that his had a deceased sister? He was unfair! Anger quickly replaced her sadness and when she was about to yell at Jareth for being insensitive and unfair, the phone rang, cutting her in her boost.

Mouth hanging open, Sarah's stared at the phone, completely caught off guard.

"Your phone is ringing, Sarah." Jareth commented dryly. He had his pants back and was running his fingers in his hair, trying to put it back in place, frowning lightly. Sarah only growled back and stomped past him to the bed, as the phone was next to its head. She fell on her bed and picked up the receiver.

"Sarah!!!!" Charlie recognizable voice yelled as greeting. Sarah winced.

"What?" She barked back.

But Charlie either didn't notice or shrugged it off. "You won't believe that! I…" She kept on, yelling, as always, when she was excited.

Sarah sighed heavily and cut her sharply. "Charlie, not so loud, I do have a hangover…" She let her voice trail, acid dripping from every letters. Sarah felt the mattress move and raising her eyes, she saw that Jareth had lied back on the bed, his arms crossed under his head, looking up at her. She scowled at him and turned away, immediately feeling bad, but she was stubborn, so she didn't look back.

"Hum, well, do you remember what happened last night, after that we left the club?"

"…Jareth's still here." Jareth rolled on his stomach and came closer to Sarah. With a glance, he made her share the phone with him, so that he could listen to Charlie.

"That's good to know. Because you and him, kissing madly, are on the front page of almost every tabloids I've seen so far!"

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Hey there, mikim is here.   
So what do you think? I hope it was worth your long wait. And for the cliffhanger, well, I'm sorry… I just wanted to tease you, guys! I got that weird idea reading a tabloid (I know, I know, I know but I can't help it! Besides, I don't buy them, my sister does! Lame excuse…) 

BTW, I know, from experience, that alcohol can erase inhibitions and can make one act really wild or bold. Therefore, for the kiddoes who didn't follow the warning at the beginning, be careful when you drink because it can lead to… unexpected consequences… o _O (This was the message from Mother Mikim who had never, never in her whole 19 years, ever touched a single glass of alcohol… Yeah, right, who am I kidding?)  
Anyway, be nice and review, please? 

Mikim.


	3. Troubles followed Monsters Talk

Trouble followed. Monsters talk.

Part a

_Hey, everyone!_

_I'm sorry for the long delay and to add some more, my computer got wild… again. Yes, that thing truly hates me, it's been confirmed. So, right now, I'm living in the constant fear that this hell-sent breaks on me again… Bah, this time I saved all my stuff on another hard disk. I hope it won't break on me this time around!!_

_Anyway, here's chapter 3. Enjoy._

_And dear lord, this chapter was a monster to write…_

_By the way, language is quite fool in this part… When I'm angry, I'm rather… explicative, let's say, and I wanted them to be that way too. It's much, much more fun to write this way. Yes, I do have a fool mouth (I was on vacations at my parents and my mom was about to have a heart attack when she heard me swore the first time, then she grabbed me and lectured me for days… jeez, scary.)_

_Sorry, but, hey, this story is rated R after all…_

_Ah, something else: I'm not American and I don't know how which city Sarah's from, so let's say, it's something like Los Angeles or San Francisco. Ok?_

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Flashy red letters shone brightly on the dark picture, on the cover of a tabloid. On its cover, one could see a tall man, with fair hair, wearing gloves, holding tightly to his chest a shorter woman, with long black hair, her head tilted in his direction, her lips glued to his. "Jareth Bane! Bring out your tissues, ladies, he's taken!" 

On another, right next to the first, one could read. "Jareth Bane got carried away, last night, with his hidden girlfriend!" The small wooden coffee table was buried under the dozen tabloids, each showing more or less the same picture. 

Sarah moaned. She was sitting, her elbows on her knees, on her couch, Charlie and Steward on her right. It had been them who had bought and brought over all the tabloids about her and Jareth, tabloids that were currently lying on her coffee table, right in front of her. 

The magazines seemed to scream at her, laughing at her, mocking her for making such a fool of herself, the night before. How could she have behaved so badly? What would her parents say? God, Karen would forbid her to come closer than three miles to Toby. 

On the corner of her eyes, she could see Steward, his green eyes seriously devouring one of the articles in a tabloid on them while his little wife was cooing happily over another tabloid: she had probably found another idol. Sarah sighed and took a glance behind her: Jareth was standing, barefoot, his shirt hanging open, in her kitchen, furiously whispering in his cell phone. 

How weird, Sarah pondered. How could Jareth use a cell phone? But. Pondering over that could only mean another headache so for now, Sarah decided to let the matter drop and she turned her eyes back to the hideous pile of tabloids lying on her coffee table.  

Charlie picked up another one and cheerfully read the headlines aloud. "Making out! Jareth Bane, new singer idol, with an unknown girl!" Sarah buried her head in her hands, chanting to herself that it was a complete nightmare. 

She moaned once more, but it didn't stop Charlie from reading the beginning of the article. "Maybe less than two blocks from the club where he was giving a small concert, Jareth Bane, the singer of Kings, the new group hitting off, was spotted kissing a young woman, around three thirty-five in the morning. The woman, whose identity is still unknown, was at the club and several persons believe the singer had been staring at her during the whole concert." Charlie cooed and reached for another one, reading the title aloud, like a fan girl that she was. "Hot! Hot! Hot! New male idol, Jareth Bane, 30, lead singer of the Kings, the new popular band, was seen last night sharing a long kiss with an unknown young woman." Charlie, a huge grin on her face, quickly went through the tabloid to read some more, when Sarah's voice called her.

"Charlie…" Sarah said, her head still in her hands. 

The brunette peeked up the magazine and threw a cheerful glance to her friend. All the commotion amused her to no end. "Yeah?" Sarah took a deep breath and raised her head from her hands, attracting Steward's attention.

"SHUT UP!" She yelled at the top of her lungs and took the nearby magazine in her right hand, standing. "And throw this trash away!" She yelled once more, throwing the magazine as far as she could from her as if it had suddenly turned into a vicious snake. Sarah, as if her strength had left her, fell back on the couch, bringing her legs under her, glaring at the tabloids.

Charlie blinked once then asked, unaffected by Sarah's sudden outburst. "Trash?" She looked from the tabloids to Sarah then back to the tabloids. "But, Sarah, it's the truth: you were plastered all over him and…" 

Sarah cut her, shaking her head, her long black hair flying in every direction. "I get the picture! I get the picture ! Please stop!" Sarah shut her eyes closed and put her hands on her ears: that was her, there. Her and Jareth. Together on the front page of hundreds of thousands of magazines, kissing like there was no tomorrow.   
Tears picked her eyes. 

Charlie looked back at Steward, concerned. She hadn't thought Sarah would be that affected and inwardly, Charlie grimaced. Of course, Sarah would have. She had been the one insensitive here. If she hadn't let herself carried away, when Steward and her had driven over to Sarah's, she would have realized how wounded Sarah would be by all this junk. Steward looked back at her and shrugged, as if to say: 'what do you want to do? Sooner or later, she would have seen them.'

"Damned it to hell!" His voice rang in the silence like a gunshot in the night and Jareth walked back in the living room, livid. 

Sarah's eyes snapped open and she turned to face him, alarmed. "What's wrong, Jareth?"

Jareth shook his head and rounded the couch to sit next to Sarah, his fist closed tightly around his cell phone. "Our manager's harassing my friends to find me. She's going to grill my ass." Charlie smiled coyly, making Steward rolled his eyes and he resumed his reading.

However, despite how dreadful the news sounded to Jareth, Sarah's mind had stopped registering at the notion of the female manager. "She?" Sarah asked him dangerously, narrowing her eyes. Jareth? Letting a female direct him? Who was he trying to fool?

Jareth frowned at her and was about to ask her what was wrong when Steward sat up, like a devil out of his box, laughing. "Wow!" He exclaimed, between two hiccups of laugh. "I think this one my favorite so far:  "Nice catch! Jareth Bane proves that he's not only an handsome singer but a lady man too. Despite all the rumors running wild on Jareth Bane's preferences, it was made clear, last night, that he really likes women at least." Rumors?" Steward paused and looked at his wife, asking her. "What are they, Charlie?"

"Steward Benjamin Thompson…" Sarah could hardly contain her anger. 

How could he? How could Steward do this to her? First, Jareth waltzing back in her life, turning everything upside down in his way, then that woman, his so-called manager, trying to locate him and now, Steward, poor harmless Steward so cute with his green eyes, chocolate hair and open face, had turned into an evil green eyed demon, born to torture her by rubbing back and forth in her face what had happened the night before and the fact that they had been spotted and now seen by maybe half of the country. 

Steward gulped and suddenly found Sarah quite scary, she made him think of a cobra before attacking its prey. She had stood up and was towering over him, her little fists shaking at her sides, her face turned down with her hair covering it. "Uh… Yes, Sarah?" Steward asked, feeling uncomfortable, really uncomfortable.

Sarah took a long breath, glaring at Steward along and yelled from the top of her lungs. "You are so dead!"

"What? What did I do? Charlie!" Steward wailed and called for help as Sarah marched on him, her fists ready to attack his head like a drummer. 

Steward protected himself with his hands while Sarah punctuated each of her punch with another yell. "Throw them away!"

Charlie sighed and Jareth picked up the magazine Steward had been reading and scanned quickly the article. "Not these rumors again?" He complained, frowning. 

Charlie tore her eyes from Sarah beating up her husband and it clicked. "Oh, yeah!" She smiled and looked slyly at Jareth. "About your homosexuality." Jareth looked up at her, his eyes narrowing dangerously and Charlie burst in laughter. "Or presumed homosexuality." She added between hiccups of laughter. Jareth rolled his eyes heavenward and sighed, throwing the magazine far from him. Meanwhile, Sarah had stopped hitting Steward and she slumped back on the couch next to Jareth and she looked at Charlie with round eyes. "What?" What did Charlie say about that rumor? 

Jareth decided that enough was enough and glared at each person in the room, lasting a bit longer on Charlie, which only elicited laughter from the latter. "Please people, spare what's left of my dignity, private life and honor alone," his hard voice finally made Charlie stopped laughing, instead, she giggled helplessly behind her hand and Jareth, exasperated, finally yelled. "And burn those things before I do, with you all wrapped in it!" Charlie couldn't hold down the laughter she contained and literally rolled on the floor, laughing and crying, complaining that her stomach hurt. 

Jareth mumbled about hurting her in another way, a dark gloom on his face when suddenly, his back pocket started to ring, without him noticing as he kept on sending lightings at Charlie through his eyes.

"Your ass is ringing, Jareth." Sarah dryly said, glaring at him. Jareth snapped out of his murdering plans on the person of Charlie and looked sharply at Sarah before registering what she had said and reaching for his cell phone in his pocket.

Jareth checked the number and swore. "Damn it." He finally answered the phone and stood up, pacing and snarling at his interlocutor. "Sariel! What! You're kidding! No! Sariel, I… Stupid ass, I'm calling a cab, I'm over in a minute. Yeah, sure, jackass." Jareth hang up and turned back to Sarah, who had been watching him sharply. Jareth knew Sarah needed just a tiny little bit more to explode with the force of a thousands volcanoes so he hesitated. 

He needn't another problem on his hands right now and a raging Sarah wasn't going to make his life easier, but he couldn't hide that from her. "Sarah, I…" He stopped and gritted his teeth. Charlie sat up on the floor and Steward turned to face him.

Sarah stood up and her breathing quickened, dreading what he would next say. "What is it?"

Jareth took a calming breath and locked his eyes with hers. "They know your name." A silence, as heavy as a dead man, fell on the room, then Charlie's and Steward's glances moved to Sarah to watch her reaction. 

But, she only croaked. "What?" The world was reeling, even stronger than with the biggest headache, up and down no longer existed nor right or left. It was all moving. Fast and slow in the meantime, spinning and falling in the same movement. 

Jareth's voice cut through. "I bet Melanie told them. Old bat."

Sarah hardly managed to fix her gaze on him and with all her might she focused on him. "Melanie…" She repeated. "And who the hell is that bitch, exactly?" She spat out while Jareth started to look around for his shoes as he dialed quickly on his phone the number of a cab, he had previously entered in the phone's memory.

Jareth never noticed Sarah's strange stillness or her sudden fixed pupils on his form. But Charlie did. And Charlie worried. If Jareth said that this Melanie girl was a friend, he was really deep in. Oh, yeah. 

Jareth sat down and placed his phone between his right cheek and his shoulder, putting his right shoe on. "Melanie is our manager." He explained quickly, not bothering to look up at Sarah. "And where the hell is my fucking left shoe?" He wondered aloud, looking around, buttoning up his shirt. Sarah was about to ask more about that Melanie character when Jareth was answered. "Ah, yes, hello. I need a cab in five minutes. " He spoke, standing up, looking for his shoe in Sarah's bedroom. Sarah followed him with murderous eyes and she was ready to give him her piece of mind, when Steward, who had stood up, restrained her by taping her shoulder lightly.

"That could be real serious, Sarah." He said, pushing his glasses up his nose, his serious green eyes making her forget instantly about Jareth.

Sarah turned fully to face him and asked, confused. "Stew?"

Charlie stood up but she turned to him while he faced Sarah. Charlie put a hand on her husband's arm and asked him. "Why?"

Steward looked down at her then back to Sarah and explained what had been lingering in his mind for a while. "Sarah's working for a prestigious school." He had thought that if Jareth could protect her identity, that situation could still be avoided but, the hand had changed and Sarah should know, should understand and prepare.

Sarah put a hand on her mouth, horrified. "You don't believe…" She whispered, staring at Steward.

Steward sighed and shook his head lightly. They all knew Sarah's school reputation. "Sarah, I'm a marketing consultant and I know how much an enterprise values its image. Your school also does. And if it was my school, I'll think over it twice." As usual when he was nervous, he pushed his glasses up his nose again and observed Sarah.

Charlie bit her lower lip before forcing herself to ask what the other two obviously didn't want to say aloud. "She wouldn't get fired, would she, Stew?" She whispered quickly, not looking at Sarah, as Charlie couldn't shake the feeling called guilt grip her limbs.

"Well…" Steward looked down at her, frowning a little. 

"That's ridiculous." Jareth suddenly spat. He had been forgotten and unnoticed but he had been listening to the conversation, ever since he had caught Sarah's suddenly stiffen back on the corner of his eye. Unnoticed by the others, he had walked back in the living room and was standing right behind the couch, his left shoe found and on.

Sarah whirled around, her eyes murderous. "Ridiculous?" She said in a high-pitch voice. "Jareth, this is my life here!" 

Jareth frowned at her and rounded the couch. "That's mine too then…" He started.

But Sarah didn't let him. She needed to explode, she needed to let go, she needed someone to yell on. But, she should have known better. She should have known Jareth wasn't the most comprehensive person around, or rather, someone you could yell on and get out of it, unharmed. "Since when my damn life became part of yours?"

Jareth's eyes suddenly blazed with anger and Charlie, who had wanted to intervene, backed away, to stand next to Steward, shocked and mute. "Sarah! Don't you dare!" He growled low in his throat. Too much already, he had suffered that tyrant without saying a word. How could she deny him that! After all he had done for her.

"Dare what, Jareth?" Sarah snarled as he approached her. "You come back after about a fucking dozen years and once more you turn the world at your convenience, without thinking of the consequences and what it…"

Livid, Jareth cut her again. "All I've ever done, I've done for you!"

"You can't start with…" Sarah shook her head and refused to hear the too old and same thing. Things had changed since their first meeting and the saying was too old and her heart too many times broken to believe his words again. 

Where was the perfect atmosphere, the dreamland she had been allowed to touch that morning, when the two of them had been facing each other, alone lying in her bathtub. Before the outside world finally caught them. 

Jareth who had been towering over Sarah, straightened his back and in a low voice, he cut her again. "Each of your whims I fulfilled."  His cold and harsh voice, his blazing eyes and his short wild hair made her do a jump back in a dozen year, in another place. "Each of your desires I offered." And another mask fell upon his features, but only her could see him change from Jareth, the man with whom she had spent the night to Jareth, the Goblin King, frightening and powerful, her heart in his fist. "Each of your wish I made true, little Sarah, or have you forgotten?" Her heart quickened, as if Jareth was squeezing it and she felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped on her. 

How could he remind her so what she had done to her little brother?

Shaking, as if she had been slapped, Sarah wrapped herself in her dignity and said on a trembling tone. "That was cruel, Jareth."

But, it was too late for Jareth and he didn't hear, nor see, the beginning of regret pointing in Sarah's eyes and tone. "And that's always what you expected from me, little Sarah." And she looked at him. Really looked at him. 

His stiff back, his so broad shoulders, his pale skin, she knew to feel like velvet, outlined by the black shirt he wore on the leather black pants, his jacket tucked under one of his strong arms which had been holding her so gently that  morning, his mouth, so smooth against hers, set in a thin line and his eyes. Oh, his mismatched eyes boring holes in her heart, which was heavy with regret of the intimate moments they had shared and lost and pain. But, Jareth wouldn't forgive her, she had gone too far. 

He had already asked her, he had told her he was tired of wearing the mask of the Goblin King for her, but once more, she had forced him to wear it. He wouldn't forgive her. "Frightening, powerful, scary, each of your thoughts I became, so that you could reject the fault on me. So, who's the one unfair, dear one? How couldn't I be concerned when my world resumed around you once more? But, of course, you have to deny me this, since I'm stuck to be the villain. I'm sick of it, Sarah. I thought I could do it again, but I already know what it's like to lose everything and frankly speaking, you're not worth another try on my part." Jareth turned around and headed to the door, saying over his shoulder. "Goodbye, Sarah. Charlie, Steward, it was nice meeting you." 

Extending a shaky hand to his retreating back, Sarah realized her eyes were full of tears but his name, escaping her lips, didn't stop him and he closed the door without a second glance. "Ja-… Jareth!"

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Jareth was leaning on the black leather seats of the cab he had called. He let his head roll backwards and observed for a minute, without actually seeing it, the blue sky above, then reaching out in his pocket, he grabbed his cell phone and dialed his house number. After two rings, as expected, Sariel picked up and Jareth put his head between his hands, his elbows leaning on his knees. "Sariel, what have you done?" He whispered fiercely in the phone, without leaving the time to Sariel to even ask who was on the phone.

A moment of silence passed between the two males, before Jareth heard a sigh on the other side of the line and Sariel's tired voice say. "You mean the spell?"

"No, idiot, I'm talking about your stupid ass!" Jareth growled in the phone, keeping his voice low.

"I cursed you so that you could both of you expressed your real feelings to one another."

Even if he had been yelling on the top of his lungs, the driver wouldn't have been able to hear him, thanks to a glass which separated them, Jareth whispered back quickly, pressing the matter further. "Paroles only?"

Sariel felt his impatience and Jareth's sudden curiosity only made him worry on the outcome of his first encounter with Sarah, after 14 years. "My spell didn't have such restrains." Sighing, Sariel felt old and blamed himself for not having thought of putting limits on his spell. After what he and Iome, and now maybe half of the country thanks to a careless photo, had witnessed the night before in front of the night club, he should have prescient what would next happen. "Sorry, didn't think about that."

Jareth leaned back in the backseat, his thought confirmed. 

_So?_ He ironically asked himself. _What I felt truly was from me._ If Jareth had been alone, he would have laughed outright at his own stupidity. _I should have stopped her when I had the occasion, I should have…_

Jareth shook his head, going this way would only lead to bitter regrets and would make him lie, as he had told Sarah the very morning: what had been done was in the past and all that was left for them to do, was to move on and accept the consequences. As bitter, as they could be.

_Sariel only prevented me from lying to myself, again._ He mused. _That was because I didn't really want to leave her, because she was right I wanted it to happen as much as she did. I… I wanted to forget in her arms, I wanted to feel her in my arms once more. I wanted… I still want._ He realized and he smirked at his own weakness, named Sarah. A weakness could either be erased or accepted and turned into a strength, he had several times been told, well, what Sarah could be, he still didn't know and didn't really want to find out soon.

Jareth was aware he had been silent for a few minutes now and that Sariel was waiting for him to speak. Almost absent-mindedly, he asked his guardian. "When does it fade?" His voice dull and cold, he let his mind wander. 

On the other side, Sariel promptly answered. "It should start to fade already. By midnight, it would have completely worn out."

"Is she still under its influence?" 

Sariel took the phone in his right hand and walked over the huge transparent doors and took a look outside, where around the main gate, as a pack of wolves waiting for a dead animal to fall from its hide, a group of  paparazzi and journalists were gathered, either smoking, some on the phone, talking among themselves, waiting. "Yes, she is, but not as much as last night." Sariel answered, looking out. "But I hope she didn't suspect anything, otherwise, the spell would last longer." He added, frowning a little. He knew Sarah and he also knew she wasn't use to act that way. Maybe, she would put it on the alcohol and stress, but then.

"How so?" Jareth asked, sounding tired.

As Jareth's former professor in spells, Sariel quickly found his teacher's voice and started his small lecture. "Well, since Sarah's not aware of it, she won't think of it, therefore, grab the substance of the spell and keeping her in mind and…" Sariel paused, knowing that Jareth wasn't really listening. His young charge was just trying to change his mind, by getting his old teacher involved in one of his favorite subjects. So, Sariel smiled sadly and asked him quietly. "Do you really want to know that?"

Earnestly, Jareth answered quickly. "No."

Sariel let a small chuckle escape him and he finally asked, sorrow taking assault of his heart. "Did it turn that bad?"

Dryly, Jareth answered. "Actually, quite the opposite." 

"Ah, that means that we're going home some time soon?" Sariel smiled as Jareth couldn't fool him. 

Sariel had been appointed guardian and tutor to the young prince, when the latter was still 6, early even for a prince, but then, his mother didn't want to take care of his first years of education, as it was traditionally decided. Sariel had just turned 25, just out of the Aboveground College his parents had sent him too and he had been immediately catapulted Royal Tutor. The child already a reputation of little devil and Sariel dreaded to meet him. 

He had heard servants say that the precedent Tutor had only last two days and he had been shocked to learn that people even bet fortunes on the time he would make next to the small prince. But, then, he had met Jareth. 

The first time their glances met, Sariel had known he would consecrate his life to the lost child, dressed in a heavy royal blue jacket, playing the piano. The first time they had met, Jareth was behaving because his beloved sister was visiting from her Aboveground school and only Lord knew how much love and adoration the little boy had for his older sister and for her, and her only, he was playing the piano she had taught him during one of her stay. 

Sariel could almost see, as if the scene was unfolding under his eyes, how Jareth had turned to him, when he had stepped into the room, how the little boy had stopped playing, getting up from the bench, slowly, frowning, disliking the idea of a stranger in this world made of his sister, the piano and him only. He still could feel Jareth's fierce gaze when he had presented himself as the new Tutor and the cold words Jareth had first greeted him with.

"You're homesick?" Jareth's voice cut through his memories, jerking him back to the present time and Sariel allowed a weary smile grace his lips. He felt like an old man, while in aboveground standard, he looked barely 35. If only they knew he had lived maybe twice that number, in their aboveground years.

Shaking his head, as if Jareth was standing next to him, he answered. "No, just reminiscing. And, also, I fear what your monsters could do to my citadel."

Jareth let a small laugh escape him. "First, it's not yours, it's mine, second, they aren't monsters, they're dogs, third they're clean!" Sariel had always disliked his dogs since one of them had thought it would be funny to roll several times in a puddle of mud, then run to meet Sariel, therefore wasting his favorite jacket he had been wearing that day.

"We'll see about that." Sariel answered dryly and all of the sudden, Jareth found himself back to the study, where Sariel would teach him about spells and magic. 

"Why do I always feel like a small boy in front of you?" Jareth smiled and looked out, at the passing scenery. He was getting closer to his house, he needed to ask him now, he wouldn't ask if Sariel was standing right in front of him, as Sariel couldn't see him weak. No, he was a King, after all. Sarah had managed to make him forget that fact too many times already. 

Sariel let a small laugh escape him and shaking his head lightly, he answered truthfully. "Maybe because I still treat you like one." Jareth was more than a prince to him, even more than a King, Jareth was…

"Sariel?" Sariel's attention focused back on the conversation and puzzled by Jareth's sudden apprehensive tone, Sariel listened carefully.

"What?" And his next question surprised him. Oh, so surprised he was when he heard those words fall from the lips of his charge and Sariel could only fear for what had happened between Jareth and Sarah. 

"Could you do it to us again?" His voice almost sounded weak, as if there was no other way, as if he had explored all the possibilities already and knew he had lost, again. Sariel closed his eyes, maybe Iome was right, maybe all this was a huge mistake, there was so much at stake, but then on the other hand, there was so much to win.

"Curse you again with the spell?" Sariel asked, in confirmation. 

"Yes." Jareth sounded firm. Sounded. 

"Yes." Sariel paused, sighed and finally said. "But I won't do it. Jareth, if I did it again, Sarah would then be bound to understand something was off and she'd accuse you." Preventing any interruption from Jareth, Sariel started talking faster, explaining his point. "My spell dulls inhibitions, yours like hers, I made it specific on your feelings for each others and as you already knew yours, you didn't fight it, or find it odd."

"She resisted?" Surprised Jareth was. So, he hadn't realized. Sariel thought. 

"No, but she could have, if she hadn't been drunk. You were lucky on that one."

A silence followed and for a while, Sariel thought Jareth had forgotten to hung the phone, but then, his King said. "I'm over in a minute."

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The woman was plump and red-haired. Lovely, was the word, which defined her. Her big blue-green eyes made her look like a charming child, her pale skin, almost golden in the sunlight, turned her in an ethereal creature, born in another realm. Which, she actually was. 

Her mother had been a human from Aboveground, with no magic power, but her father was a human from Underground, a minor lord of the Grand Court. 

But, the lady herself, Melanie Richmond had no magic power, or whatsoever, and that was why she had chosen, like many like her, deprived of any power, to live Aboveground, like any above grounder. 

Of course, she knew the truth and knew the Kings and Queens, which ruled the Underground, just as she knew whom the Emperor was, and who was the Emperor's son. So saying that immense had been her surprise when the Isle King's private counselor, Sariel, nonetheless, had taken contact with her for business, was an understatement. Under grounder either took pity of the children without power either lived as if they didn't exist. 

So, when the Prince had asked her to work for him, her, a non-power as they were called commonly underground, she hadn't believed her luck. The Prince had the reputation of a womanizer and being the holder of a power which competed with the Emperor's one, himself. Oh, the thrill of working so close to him, had been overwhelming and she had worked harder than never before.

Since then, and just as Jareth had promised would happen, her success had been acclaimed in the profession as the Kings had risen rather quickly among the profession. Their quiet manner, discreet and so secretive, was attractive and Jareth was like a magnet, with his charisma and strange eyes, attracting anyone to him. Soon, if she could worked it well, the group would make its first live and she wanted something big, as powerful as the Prince, something as magnificent than him, something as grandiose. 

She, who had been a small manager, in charge of several minor groups, was now the exclusive manager and producer of the Kings. 

Smiling to herself, Melanie looked outside, glancing at the reporters gathered in front of the group's house. She was standing in a room unused by the others, which she considered as her own, since she had often slept over, to arrange whatever needed to be arrange for the group. 

She had been slightly surprised too, when the Prince had asked a house on the hills so that he could see the whole city laid under him, a house big enough for him, Iome and Sariel to live together. Melanie had thought he would have asked for something bigger just for himself. But, no, he preferred this house, which he called, a sardonic smile on his lips, his lair. The house was big, with five big bedrooms, each with a balcony and a personal bathroom and a swimming pool which his Highness graced every morning. But, then, it wasn't the type of house Melanie had thought the King would request, she had thought he would want something more big, something more flashy, something to show off, not this house, where he hid himself almost every day. 

And that had been the problem: Jareth was too secretive. He had only reluctantly agreed to do a string of interviews and only after Sariel had whispered something to him. He hated being taken in photo and had insisted on touring first in small clubs such as the one where the group had performed the night before.

That was why this story was all good for them, a good free publicity, showing people Jareth wasn't the geek he looked to be, that he too was human with carnal desires. That should break the suffocating fog around him and add a lot to his charisma among ladies. 

That was why, Melanie let the photos being released while they had spent thousands already to protect Jareth and the house's privacies. Melanie didn't really know how much she had spent already buying off the pictures showing Jareth, either in the swimming pool or in the house, or Iome flirting with some girls and boys while Sariel had been spotted several times just walking around, visiting.  A quiet voice interrupted her daily musings on the person of her King.

"Melanie." Jareth stood in the doorframe, his hands loosely at his sides.

Melanie whirled around. The King always pooped out of nowhere, surprising her. "Jareth!" It had taken her so long to get use of calling him by his name rather than his title, but they couldn't risk her calling him by his title when somebody else was there, therefore, she had been asked to call him by his name. Walking in his direction, a smile on her red lips, she moved her hands excited like a small child. "It's good publicity for your CD. With that, we…"

But Jareth cut her. "I don't even want to know how you learned her existence, I have a pretty good idea but I will say it clear, loud and once: stay away from her."

He didn't make a movement but she froze in her steps. He didn't budge an eyelid but she found herself speechless. He didn't raise his voice but she was suddenly cowering in front of him. She felt like the fly attracted to a bright flame, too bright and burning on it.

That was then she understood: she had thought she was part of his world, working closely with him, but she wasn't. All this had a purpose, and only one. He had told her, he had warned her, but she chose to ignore. She had chosen to ignore that he was a King, a King expecting to be acknowledged as, respected as, obeyed as one.  Oh, Lord, how many times before they all started this charade, how many times did he warn her? How many times did he insist on the secrecy of his life? How many?

"I'm not in need of money nor do I want more, the core reason all this happened was for her and her alone." It was something in his stance, something she had forgotten, something which radiated from him, something that made him stood like a King. 

"If you make a living, it's like a hyena, eating the corpses, what has been discarded." He sneered and turned around, leaving her without a second glance, without having rose his voice once, as if she was unimportant.

Something in his stance and her knees buckled and she fell on the ground. "Jareth!" She cried after him. She didn't make any mistake! It was all for him, all! She just wanted to… Bowing her head, she let the sobs building in her chest reached her eyes.

"You've made a grave mistake, Melanie." Another man stood in the doorframe and Melanie snapped her head up to see Sariel leaning against her doorframe, his eyes boring an infinite sadness. Sadness for whom, however, she didn't know. Shaking his head, Sariel walked in and put her back on her feet. "You should have known better than making Jareth your enemy." He told her quietly.

Raising her watering eyes up to him, Melanie tried to defend herself. "Sariel! I just…"

But Sariel never let her. He was loyal only to his King. "Jareth will finish this tour and keep his engagements, but don't you dream of another CD. Once his trust is lost, it's forever: you know, as me, Jareth rarely, if never, forgives."

"But!" She tried a last time but knew she had lost. 

"No buts, Melanie, I don't care." Sariel shook his head again and turned around, pausing only at her door to turn around once more and reaching for her door to close it, he told her. "He told you from day one: you had to take care of the business part, but you had to never meddle in his private life, on the opposite, you had to do all what possible to keep his private life as hidden as possible. You failed. He warned you, you can't deny it, we were all present so you can only blame yourself on that one." 

And before Sariel could close the door, Melanie yelled. "I thought it would help: people are always eager for these kinds of tasty stories. It brings their idol on a more human level, not just a star shining too brightly and too high for them!"

"I don't care. Oh! I almost forgot, I've got another message for you from Jareth: 'I don't care how you do it, or how much it'll cost, but keep her out of this.' I'll let you ponder of what he'll do if her name is revealed. Have a nice day." Sariel closed the door and Melanie stared. She had screwed up and Jareth, rather her King, wasn't going to forgive her when she had just wanted to please him. 

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A small red car stopped at the back entrance of the house, attracting the guard attention. Franck had been standing there since early this morning to prevent any journalists who would tried to sneak in. So far, he had politely, but firmly, stopped three attempts. So, when the car stopped to let a small brunette get out of it, Franck narrowed his eyes. He looked behind the approaching female and saw that her two companions remained in the car, whose engine was still on. The brunette approached him and smiled a bright smile. "Excuse me…" She started, with a sweet voice and clear shining eyes.

And he couldn't help but smile. Being in this business had him met thousands of girls like this one and she probably wasn't very different than the bunch he had met before but he let her do her little game. "Yes? Miss?"  He smiled down at her. 

The girl's smile turned icy and she frowned. "Mrs. Thompson." She corrected him and squaring her little shoulders, as if she had understood he wouldn't let her in, despite all the cuteness she could display, she said, in an almost icy tone. "We are looking for Jareth Bane."

The tall blond guardian smiled and shook his head. "A lot of people are looking for him, Mrs. Thompson. I'm sorry but I can't…" 

The small lady cut him rudely but he wasn't fazed. He was simply used to it. "My friend needs to see him." She said quickly waving at her two companions in the car. In response, the driver turned off the engine and stepped out of the car, helping the other passenger out. There was a man, with spiky brown hair and another woman, taller than the first, with sunglasses and long black hair. 

Looking over the first head, Franck watched the couple approach, narrowing his eyes. There was so much weirdoes running wild these days, so what if those three were trying to get at his employers. Judging the man's built, Franck thought he could easily take him down, but then, the women could while he was distracted with the man sneak into the house. "I'm sure she does, but listen Mrs., there's no way you're seeing Mr. Bane and…" He said, not looking at her.

But, then, the tall woman with black hair removed her sunglasses as she reached the smaller woman's side.  "Please, I need to see Jareth." She pleaded, her green eyes obviously red from tears.

Franck blinked and stared at the woman. It was the woman his boss had been spotted with, the reason of all this commotion. "You are…" He spluttered. 

"Quick, before the journalists spot us!" The small brunette snapped at him and Franck turned to open the gate he was standing in front of.

"This way, this way!" He told them, as he quickly lead them inside the back garden of the property.

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_Well, well, well, I guess I have to stop here as this chapter is getting too long already! This is only the first half, I hope you'll like it!_

See you soon 

_Mikim._


	4. Troubles followed Monsters Talk part b

Trouble followed. Monsters talk.

Part b

Hey, here's the following of Sarah's and Jareth's fight. My greatest fear is to have the characters OCC. Please tell me it they are, as I fear them to be! 

As usual for the disclaimers.

Alright, this is quite a long part (please, don't get bored, hang on with me!), I should have cut it better, anyway, when I'll update part 4, I'll replace the whole chapter as one. Forgive me for all the trouble!

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The back door led them to a huge garden, almost as wild as a jungle. Palm trees of all heights hid the mansion quite well, while giving shade and turning the garden into a rather secluded place. A paving stone alley was running through the trees and seemed to lead to the house, but Sarah couldn't really tell, as the alley turned sharply to the left just a few feet from where she stood, hiding where it was leading. She could see the first floor terrace of the house, though over the rim of the trees, built like a hacienda, with rich orange and red colors, high arches and white drapes hanging from the ceiling, flowing lightly through the open glass doors.

As they, still following Franck, the muscular doorkeeper, walked past the sharp turn, they almost ran into another man. This one was tall and dark-haired, but lean and almost frail compared to Franck. However, his commanding voice alleviated greatly his frail-looking shoulders. He was dressed in a plain white shirt, over an old-looking too loose blue jeans and a cigarette, hanging dangerously in the corner of his mouth.  "What is it?" He was as surprised as the others were to meet someone here and growling, he snapped, taking the cigarette off his mouth to hold it with his right hand. "Franck!" He turned his fierce gaze from the man to his followers, still growling. "You're not supposed to…" As his gray eyes fell on Sarah's form, he stopped and whispered as if doom day had arrived. "Oh! Sweet Lord…" The cigarette fell soundless on the ground.

"Bless his angels." Charlie nodded.

"Charlie!" Steward hissed. "It's not a time to joke around!" He scowled her but she rolled her eyes at him, a small grin on her lips. Sighing, Steward gave up.

Sariel blinked again and approached them. He put his hands on Sarah's shoulders as if he didn't believe she was there in flesh. "Sarah…" He breathed, flabbergasted. "What…" He started to demand when Charlie stepped forward and he raised his eyes at the movement he caught in the corner of his eyes. "Who are you?" He demanded instead, his voice hard. Franck, behind them, seeing that they were in good hands, retreated to get back to his guarding point.

"Friends." Charlie answered, wrapping an arm around Sarah's waist. She didn't like the way Sariel was looking at Sarah. Sarah was there for Jareth, damn it, not for him. "Sarah and Jareth parted on pretty bad terms this morning and I think Sarah here is willing to give it another try." She leaned forward a little, challenging the man to blame on Sarah what had happened, with all the photos but also risking the band's image.

But Sariel surprised her. He let a small smile cross his lips and turn, showing them the way inside the house. "Sure, this way." He said, gesturing them to follow him. 

Sarah was protected by a dragon, it seemed. Sariel would have laughed, if he had been alone. Jareth had mentioned friends, but he would have never thought Sarah's friends were that protective of her. "Excuse my earlier starting but I have to say I'm a bit shocked. Jareth told me more or less what happened and knowing you, Sarah, I'd last expected you coming here on your own…" He started to explain, his eyes bright.

Charlie stopped dead in her tracks and hissed, like a cat on which a bucket of water had been dumped on. "What! Sarah, you know Sariel too?" Sarah was as surprised as Charlie was. She had never met this man before and he was talking like he knew her whole life. 

"Have we…" Sarah hesitated. The man, Sariel Charlie had said, was looking at her, locking his eyes with hers. 

Old eyes that she knew, eyes of secret and remorse she had often seen, eyes which had glittered with laughter so many times already, eyes she was familiar with, eyes in a mirror, eyes of a small person, someone she knew very well and who knew her as well, eyes of someone who had crossed with her so many hardships and dangers untold… "Oh! My God!" Sarah cried out, surprised. His eyes, they were the same eyes. But, then, what the hell was with that appearance and why the hell was he with Jareth?

"Sarah?" Charlie asked her, confused at her first denial, then affirmation. Man, that girl was so confusing, sometimes.

"Yes!" Sarah gripped Sariel's forearms, her eyes locked with his, while he only smiled in return at her childish behavior. "Yes we have!" She confirmed a brilliant smile on her lips, she then turned to Charlie, thinking very fast of a way out.  "It's just that… that…"

"That?" Charlie asked, one of her eyebrow high, Steward waiting quietly behind her, but as eager to know how Sarah knew Sariel.

But, it was Sariel who answered. He smiled and explained. "Last time we saw each other, I was slightly different." Sarah turned to him, rolling her eyes, heavenward and Sariel laughed lightly, raising his hands in defeat. "Alright, I was small with a big head, a round belly and short legs… Happy?" He asked her, with a shake of his head.

"Without mentioning that you've changed your name!" Sarah pointed out also, smiling.

Sariel shrugged and resumed walking. "Bah. I'm used to much more different names, lately."

Sarah quickened her pace to be at his level. "What do you mean?" She asked.

Sariel sent her a bright smile and told her. "After grilling our manager's ass, Jareth locked himself in his room with a bottle of whiskey and when I tried to get him out, I was renamed several times quite originally." 

Sarah stopped dead in her tracks and Steward, walking behind her, almost crashed in her. "You don't mean that… Jareth is drunk?" She asked him, unbelieving.

Sariel grinned. "Oh! Yes, he'll be. And I can't say I'm not enjoying it."

"W-What?" Sarah choked. 

"Jareth can't hold well alcohol." Sariel opened his hands, as if it was something he couldn't do much about and even if he could, wouldn't. "He's drunk with only two glasses so a full bottle. Serves him right!" He murmured quickly after, but Sarah caught it anyway.

Steward sighed heavily and joked. "Man, there's a lot of alcohol flowing down, around here…" He let his voice trail and grinned at Sarah, who had turned to glare at him.

"Steward, shut the hell up!" She snapped and Sariel resumed walking, the others following him but two of them were laughing merrily.

As they entered in the grand house, by the basement, while crossing the hacienda like terrace, a feminine shriek greeted them. "Jareth! Son of a bitch! Open that god damned door!" Sariel ran up a flight of stairs, leading them to the first floor.

Another yell answered the first, a bit muffled, as if coming through a wall or a door. "Go away, old hag!" A male voice answered.

Sariel sighed and walked faster. "Oh, no, Iome…"

"Hag?" The woman sounded positively outraged. "Watch your mouth, you brat!"

"Let me fucking alone, damn it!" Annoyance and frustration clearly rang, sorrow too, a seep desperation, like for something held but lost forever, like sand fleeing through a fist, like a bird escaping the golden cage of his crying master. But the woman didn't even beat an eyelash at the pity the male voice could stir.

"Alone?" Sariel, Sarah, Charlie and Steward finally rounded the corner to find a short woman with an amazing mass of blond hair, almost the color of honey, reaching down her waist, dressed in black short and a white tank top, barefoot, her hands on her hips, glaring and screaming at a huge wooden door. "You're wrong, scum!" She screamed once more. "We're in this as deep as you, jackass! Now open up that forsaken door before I grab an axe and bring it down!" She finished, beating her fists against the door.

"You?" The voice on the other side of the door sounded amused and scornful. "With those tiny arms? Dream on, fool!"

"What?!" The woman only started to beat the door louder. 

"Iome…" Sariel sighed, attracting the woman's attention and she turned her blazing eyes on them. Her eyes were color of a turquoise sea. She wasn't tall like Sarah, but she wasn't small like Charlie and in her, everything seemed perfect: the heart-shaped of her face, her thin features, like chiseled in marble. Her skin wasn't as pale as Jareth, but golden suntan, which made her hair even more honey like. Her language didn't, really didn't fit with her warm beauty.

"There you are, old geezer!" She started, looking like she was ready to stomp on Sariel. "And where have…" Iome stopped and put her hands on her mouth, then she flew herself to Sarah's neck. "Sarah!" She screamed happily.

"You know Iome too?" Charlie drawled, looking ready to kill.

"Wow!" Iome exclaimed and stepping back she looked at Sarah up and down. "I wanted to meet you a long time ago!" Iome laughed and hugged Sarah again. "The person who brought the ass on his knees!" She said happily and laughed a little, only to have her laugh turning to a shriek as she jumped in surprise, when on the other side of the wall, something crashed again it, smashing into a thousand pieces, surprising everyone by its strength when it hit the wall. "What was that?" Iome squealed.

Sariel reached out in his pocket a cigarette and lit it up calmly, telling her. "Probably the 'ass' sending his glass against the door."

"Jareth!" Iome whirled around and hit the door again. "Bastard! You better clean up your mess!" She yelled.

"Iome, you aren't getting things better, you know." Sariel remarked, in a puff of smoke. 

Sarah, shyly, approached the door. Unknowing what to do, she touched it and called, almost a whisper at first, then taking courage, louder. "Jareth! Jareth, open up! It's Sarah…" Biting her lip, Sarah didn't know what to say more.

Why would he open the door ? Their first meeting had been so explosive, him so scornful at first, so sure of himself and her so childish and inconsiderate in her demands, then they had fought, fought over a baby, a fight she had won, through tears and blood. 

Then, they had met a second time and all their pent-up emotions lashing at each other, they made their second meeting as explosive as the first, but then, the fight had come, like the first time, the only difference being that it came later than the first time. 

But, she still had to try. 

Because, each time they fought, they wounded each other. She could see it, like they were standing on each side of a wall they were building together, each of his sarcasms, each of her accusations turning into a new brick on the wall, separating them further. And she couldn't let it happen. She didn't want to let it happen. "Open the door…" Even to her own ears, she sounded so pathetic, pleading, begging him to do as she asked once more. Was she really that cruel, as he said so many times already. But, if she was, he was as cruel. Her resolution taken, Sarah's voice grew firmer and almost on a commanding tone, she said, frowning. "We need to talk!" Sariel hid his smile behind the hand that held the cigarette in his mouth. He knew Sarah better than anyone, he could see the determination on her face, the same fierce determination, which had brought her through the labyrinth, even despite his betrayal and the peach episode. Now, if Jareth could allow himself to let go. The smile disappeared.

A long silence followed Sarah's exclamation, embarrassing for some, cruel for one, maddening for another, sad for the last one. Then, from the other side of the door, the same voice rose once more, calmly, deadly, cold. "And what good will it do me? Except tearing me apart again?" The voice asked, emaciated.

            This alone struck Sarah a blow. She wouldn't have felt worse if he had hit her. Was she really responsible for all this? Or was he dumping it on her? Who, of the two of them, was the cruelest, which of the two of them was the victim here, if victim there was. The tears came alone, unnoticed and unwanted, and ran down her cheeks, while she stared at, without seeing it, the door.

Iome, who was at Sarah's left, was the first to notice the tears and pulling a comforting arm around Sarah's shoulders, as the latter crouched in pain, yelled to the other one. "Fine!" Charlie came forward and took Sarah in her arms. Sariel sighed and closed his eyes. He knew what was to come and besides, Jareth was still under the influence of his spell. Another sad smile crossed his lips. "Sulk all the way round, while I take Sarah for me." Iome finished, putting her fists on her hips.

The door swung open to reveal Jareth who towered over Iome, yelling back at her. "Back off, ruins! She's guarded hunt!"

"Ruins?" She repeated, her eyes fierce again. "Ruins maybe but I won't make her cry!" She yelled, taking a step forward, as if daring him to deny her that.

"What the hell?" Steward blinked. Jareth had opened the door out of jealousy. Any of Sarah's cries hadn't reached him, but he had reacted quicker than Steward would have thought he would at the jealousy Iome had evoked in him. Sariel's chuckle caught his attention off the fight going on and Steward looked at him wearily, asking himself where the hell Charlie, Sarah and he had crashed into. 

Sariel lit up another cigarette as the first was finished and sent by the grand window into the garden. "Jareth and Iome have always fought over the same girls, don't worry, it happens all the time." He explained. Charlie raised her eyes from Sarah's form, buried in her arms, crying her heart out on her shoulders to Jareth and Iome fighting again to know whose fault it was for Sarah's tears and finally fell on Sariel.

"At least, he opened the door."  Charlie said, shrugging.

Sariel smiled once more. "Iome knows which buttons to push as well as I do." Sariel finally added, with a wink. "Don't worry, she's in a man period at the moment." Sariel then turned to observe the two opponents and stepped forward, walking in front of Sarah and Charlie, hiding them behind his back. As he walked, he spoke, opening his hands in a calming manner. "Now, kids, if you would settle down, I think Jareth and Sarah could have this talk."

"Who said I wanted to talk?" Jareth answered back, scornfully. And something in Sarah finally snapped. Why would she cry for such a jerk?

"Fine!" She yelled, detangling herself of Charlie's comforting arms. "Be that way! I'm gonna visit Iome's bedroom!" 

"This way!" Iome happily said, a smile on her red lips.

"Iome…" Sariel sighed and shook his head but Jareth didn't care, his burning eyes focused on Sarah, full of anger and betrayal. 

"Fine! Leave if you want! See if I care!" He answered, turning his back on her, walking back in the room he had locked himself in earlier, but Sarah followed him and sneaked in before he could close the door on her. As he turned around to swing the door close, Sarah, who had been running close to him to prevent him from locking her out, crashed into his chest. She would have stumbled and fell on her bottom, if Jareth's arms hadn't sneaked and caught her by her forearms, when she lost her footing. 

Instinctively, Sarah's hands closed on his own forearms and, when she found her balance back, she whispered, her head bent. "Jareth, you stubborn, impossible, insufferable man!" She leaned on him, resting her cheek against his heart and closed her eyes at the quick pace of his heart. It was almost comfortable and it reminded her of another encounter, of which she only had flashes, a drunk and feverish night, a dance they both willingly gave in. But, suddenly, Jareth shook her hands off his arms, and as if he was disgusted, turned around and walked further in the room. 

"Wonderful, Sarah, 14 years and that's all you can come up with." He threw over his shoulder, taunting her.

Sarah kicked the door closed, behind her and screamed back. "You rat!" Sarah's ire flared up once more and she walked after him. "It's all your fault!" She accused him, pointing her hand at him, meanwhile shaking her head. "You come back without announcing anything and I…" 

She stopped abruptly when Jareth's fingers closed around her hand and he pulled her hard to him, whispering fiercely, his mouth inches from hers, his eyes burning in hers. Like they were dancing, Jareth forced her to walk backwards, till her back met a wall. "What did you want?" He asked her quickly, the acid of his words almost burning her physically. "A postcard?" His other hand slammed in the wall right next to her head and she jumped in surprise, frozen, rooted to the spot, unable to tear her eyes from his. 

His breathing was ragged and rapid, his fingers tightened their hold on her fingers and she cried out at the unexpected pain coming from it, surprised. "Jareth!" His face wouldn't have contorted in a worse expression of self-disgust and pity, if he had slapped her. 

He released her hand like it was a burning piece of white metal and cupped her face so gently like he was afraid to break her, his thumbs wiping her unnoticed tears away. "Don't cry…" He whispered hoarsely, his eyes closed, unable to support the view of her tears. Ever since, his sister had cried, on her deathbed, in his arms, he had been unable to stand the sight of a crying woman. 

And this woman was now Sarah. Sarah, the Sarah, stubborn Sarah, sweet Sarah, beautiful Sarah, ravishing Sarah, his. "Please, don't cry, I can't stand it when you're crying." His murmurs floated to her ears like on a cloud, as his mouth drifted to kiss gently her right ear. His voice suddenly livened up and he said fiercely, talking more to himself than to Sarah, who could only listen, frozen, between Jareth and the wall. "I've already lost you once, then I lost Millibel…" He fell on his knees, his face hid in her neck, bringing her to her knees too, her eyes wide, she let him murmur in her ear.  "No, I wouldn't bear it if you left me again…" Then, so quickly she couldn't do anything but gasp, his mouth crashed on hers, taking advantage of her moment of surprise to slip his tongue in and kissing her so desperately, as if the world was coming to an end, as if his had come to an end. 

The world shattered in a thousands pieces and the sun reflected in the pieces of the glass he had destroyed earlier. However, she couldn't tell if it was the sun reflecting in the glass shards or his fierce kiss which blinded her with tears again. Like somebody had hit him on the back of his head, Jareth's eyes widen and for a fleeting second met Sarah's bewildered gaze before closing, his body turning limp and he fell on her, unconscious.

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A light snore came from the man, cutting short the panic quickly building inside her breast. Sarah stared at the man on her lap and blinked: Jareth had fallen asleep. Jareth had truly fallen asleep on her. Oh how earth had Jareth could fallen asleep was beyond her: here he had been kissing her deeply and the next, fast asleep on her lap. Sarah growled in annoyance at the man and studied him: his steady breathing and his light snores, no doubt, the jerk had fallen asleep. Sarah considered dropping his head off her lap but then her gaze fell on his lips. 

Jareth, Jareth was beautiful. His features were hard but as impossible as it seemed delicate in their own way, as if sculpted by wind blades, his high cheekbones so smooth under her fingers and his long eyelashes teasing her thumb. Even asleep, he looked out of time, royal in everyway. Dangerous. Like a shadow, lurking at his feet, the impression of danger was always surrounding him. 

His lips promised mysteries and dark secrets and even if she had kissed him a couple of times already, she still couldn't remember what he tasted like, how his lips had been on hers, she couldn't remember, but she longed for them like a long-forgotten favorite sweet seen all the sudden, almost physically she could feel her heart flutter with longing and regret. 

Regret for the fights they always seemed to have around each other, regret for the shattered world she had touched in her bathtub while longing for his burning touch arousing her and scaring her even, longing for those eyes to look at her, like only him was able to. Jareth was impossible to understand. Why couldn't they have a conversation like rational adults? Avoiding fighting. On her lap, he seemed so vulnerable. 

Reacting to an impulse, Sarah closed her arms over his shoulders and rested her head lightly against his hair, closing her eyes, trying to forget where they were, trying to forget how they ended up here, trying to forget. But the memories didn't want to be forgotten and imposed themselves to her again. She could see herself tugging on his shirt, while his hands were roaming on her half naked body, his lips trailing white-hot kisses in the hollow of her shoulder. She could hear him whisper her name, over and over again, as they were one, as they moved together, like they had been practicing this dance for years now. She could see his face, contorted in pleasure and feel the thrill it had brought her. And then, his angry face. His burning eyes and tense voice. His scorn almost and his rage. His stiff shoulders and his harsh words. 

Jareth was impossible to understand: with one hand, he seemed to pushed her away from him, while with his other hand trying to pull her closer. Sarah opened her eyes. Yes that was exactly how she was: torn, lost, not knowing what to say, what to do, not knowing if she had done anything right till now. Jareth had the knack to turn her mad and overthrow her world, like a raging storm.

Her head resting on his short soft hair, like baby hair she mused and smiled. She felt so content and Sarah chuckled, if only he could stay this way, his big mouth closed he would be perfect. But so dull. Jareth was impossible to live with, but she didn't think she could go back to her life without him either. Sarah sighed and decided to push these annoying thoughts for later. 

Raising her head, for the first time, Sarah's eyes wandered in the room they were in: she was sitting, with Jareth on her lap, her back to on of the walls, in what seemed to be a boudoir. Another open door, forming an arch, in front of her, led to another room, where she could see a grand poster bed, with white light drapes, blowing gently. The walls were color of sunset and the furniture was made of deep brown wood, a chest was at the foot of the bed, Jareth's pendant symbol carved on it. Jareth's apartment. 

The arch leading to his bedroom was surprisingly small, compared to the main door, which was a immense double wooden door. The white ceiling was high and supported by old looking beams, the same color as the furniture. On her left, light poured in the room, through a window split in three, by three white columns designed like women, lightly clad, their hands up, holding the structure. There, too, clear white drapes flew gently in the soft breeze, their ends caressing gently the bench placed under, with big white cushions. 

The room had only a few pieces of furniture: a table, a bench under the windows, another chest on the opposite wall as Sarah, but what intrigued her were the bookcases, on each side of the chest, as she could see numbers of pictures on the shelves. She couldn't clearly see them, as she was a little too far and without her reading glasses, she wasn't even able to see who were on them. Her gaze drifted to the chest and as she expected it, this one too had Jareth's symbol carved into. 

Sarah's gaze drifted up to the wall and the photographs she could see. These 4 were bigger than those on the shelves. She couldn't tell who were on the pictures either, but she could see them better and she could even see, on the middle picture, a woman in a long black evening dress, smiling gently up to the photographer, her face had something familiar, the shape of her chin reminded of someone else. Sarah narrowed her eyes and wished she could dump Jareth's head elsewhere to inspect the photo closer. A creaking sound, announcing the opening of a door jerked her from her musings and her head turned sharply to the door. 

Sariel peeked inside and Sarah saw his gaze lit up as it fell on hers and Jareth's forms.

"Ah." He said, as he entered the room, smiling. "He finally fell asleep. He lasted longer than I thought he would."

"What?" Sariel's smile grew wider. 

He stepped closer and squatted down, poking Jareth's cheek gently with one finger, his eyes warm and his smile fond. "It's a natural reaction between his magic and alcohol." He explained to Sarah. Raising his gaze, he smiled almost apologetically to her and sat down next to them. "His magic is starting to clean his system of the unwanted substance, meaning alcohol. He just fell asleep, don't worry." He said again, waving his hand quickly.

"Oh." Sarah looked down at Jareth: his arms had fallen around her when he had first fell on her and when Sariel had sat next to her, she had definitely felt them tighten around her legs.

Sariel leaned on the wall and reached inside his jacket to pull out a cigarette and his lighter. "I'm looking after Jareth since he was 5." He told her. He poked Jareth's cheek once more and lit up his cigarette. "Old habits die hard." He said, exhaling the smoke. Relaxed, the older man fell silent. Waiting.

Sarah gathered her guts and asked him in a low voice. "Sariel…" She paused and finally looked at him, to find that he was staring at the ceiling his cigarette in his mouth. "How is this all possible?" She murmured and paused once more but Sariel didn't say a thing, nor looked like he was going to say anything and Sarah dropped her gaze back to Jareth: he looked almost comical, sprawled like he was on the floor with his long limbs. "I don't understand anything. Everything is so confusing, I feel like I'm in the Labyrinth all over again, although this time, I can't see the walls."

"Ah, Sarah." Sariel sighed. "The Labyrinth you're talking about has always been there, but it's the first time you're running this particular Labyrinth and being aware of it, I suppose." He paused once more and looked at her. She hadn't listened a bit at what he had said. As Sarah hadn't looked up from Jareth's face, she saw a slender finger enter her line of vision and Sariel poked Jareth's cheek once more.

Sarah looked up a bit surprised, but Sariel only smiled ruefully to her. Then, quicker that she could have expected it, his face turned back to a serious expression. "Jareth isn't the Goblin King." He said, his tone firm. "In fact, there aren't any Goblins. Everything was an illusion, a perfect lie to lure Toby to us."

Sarah jumped and breathed. "Toby?"

Sariel looked surprised too and asked her carefully. "Did Jareth tell you what we were?"

"What?" 

Sariel sighed once more and explained in an equal voice. "We are humans, Sarah. Not Fae or Dwarves. Just humans." He paused and studied her face. Her lightly disbelieving face made him resume quickly his explanation. "A long time ago, before that the Roman Religion came to the northern lands of Europe, there was a community, who worshipped the olds spirits and it was said that those spirits chose some humans, giving them special abilities, marking them as their personal messenger or servant. But, then the Christ and his priests came to these lands and hunted down these people. I'm not saying anything against this religion or what, but it has to be noted that the people with special abilities were treated as witches and wizards and therefore burned." 

Sarah was completely taken by the story and she couldn't help but ask. "But, if the other gods had chosen them, why didn't he save them?"

Sariel chuckled and said, as he kept on smoking. "That's the trick with the gods." Taking his cigarette between two fingers, he pointed at her. "Gods don't save anyone, you have to save yourself." Sarah didn't say anything and Sariel resumed his story. "And so, some of them gathered and split this dimension in two, allowing those with powers only to go through the portals. They still stand up and proud, nowadays and are even admired for their beauty and quiet strength."

"Oh!" Sarah exclaimed. "You mean those stones, dressed in circles? Damn it, I can't remember their names!" She said quickly, frowning.

Sariel smiled and looked down at Jareth. Gone was the time, when he used to tuck him in his bed. "I don't know how the Above grounders call them, but we call them 'Doors', however the most powerful of our kin don't need Doors to go between the Underground and Aboveground. They just go as they will it."

Sarah snorted, making Sariel look up at her. "I bet Jareth is one of them." She grumbled under her breath, obviously not wanting to be heard.

Sariel chuckled again. "Yes, he is. Although he doesn't look like one, right now." Both of them fell silent, as they stared at the sleeping blonde, on Sarah's lap.

"Yes…" Sarah finally whispered. A tear ran down her cheek, while she giggled softly. 

Sariel was sorry for the way things had turned, he really wanted them to be happy and he tried to mend the things. "Sarah…"

"Why are you telling me all this?" She demanded, her gaze still fixed on Jareth.

Sariel took a deep breath and cursed lightly, as the cigarette between his fingers he had forgotten, threatened to burn his hand. Quickly standing up, he walked to the table where he knew an ashtray was. His back to her, he told her. "Jareth is our Emperor's only son, therefore Heir."

"So?"

Sariel turned around and before answering, lit up another cigarette, leaning on the table behind him. "His relationship with his parents is… strained, let's say, and he rivals his father dangerously in term of magical power." Sariel paused once more to smoke. "Any father would have burst with joy and pride, but not our Emperor, his reaction was rather the opposite." The understatement of the century, Sariel mocked himself inwardly. He refused to meet Sarah's gaze and he looked outside.

"What's his name?" Sarah asked.

"I'm sorry, but only family members or close friends can say his name aloud. Even in this realm. Being the emperor brings so many responsibilities and in consequence, powers that he can hear whenever his name is said aloud." Sariel finally turned his gaze back to her and his eyes naturally fell on Jareth. "Just like Jareth." He fell silent and finished his cigarette, staring at Jareth. 

His father, when he had learnt Jareth was maybe as strong as he was, at only the age of ten publicly humiliated him, in front of the whole Imperial Court by making a comment on his eyes. Jareth hadn't believed his ears: he was used to hear such comments from other members, but never from his own father. The hurt of betrayal, the pain, the bitterness that had followed had been as frightening as the lack of response Jareth had offered after. Sariel had known Jareth had been devastated and he had only feared the worst, when Jareth hadn't even seemed to even bat an eyelash at the humiliating comment.

Sarah's voice snapped him out of his gloom and Sariel focused back on the present. "You said they aren't getting along?" She asked him and he wondered how long he had stayed silent.

"No, they aren't." He confirmed and steeled himself against the memories. "That's why Jareth, as soon as he finished his studies took over the Illusion Isle and tamed it to his will."

"What is that…" Sarah started to ask, but Sariel finished for her.

"Illusion Isle. Even with powers, we are still humans, with petty feelings and all." Sariel smiled wryly. "And of course, discrimination forced a couple of wizards to tear a piece of land from the continent, and by magic, this artificial isle sails on the sea, as a ship."

Sarah choked and let him know she didn't believe him. "You're kidding me." 

Sariel smiled and shook his head negatively. "Not at all. Anyway, Jareth wanted to prove himself to his father. Rebellion, insult or simple recognition, I still don't know what he wanted to prove. I don't think he knows himself." Sariel shrugged, then frowned, remembering the tornado the Imperial Palace had been thrown into after Jareth's return. "However, the Emperor was less than pleased and it only created a deeper rift between the two and so, Jareth locked himself in his Citadel."

Sariel paused once more, his eyes on Jareth, but seeing another one, one with long and wild hair, standing to the others proudly on the walls of his Citadel, but to him, broken and angry, glaring at the sea like it was a constant reminder of his father's denial. Sariel fell Sarah's confused gaze and he asked her quickly. "Can you imagine the amount of power it needs to take over such land, tame it and keep it under control?"

Sarah blinked and smiled dryly. "Actually, no, but I'll believe you." Unknown to her, one of her hand had finally found its place on Jareth's back, while the other was cupping his neck gently, playing with his hair. Sariel hid his smile behind his hand, pretending to be smoking. 

Maybe, Jareth could be saved, after all. Maybe Millibel was right. "Hmm." Sariel turned away, a small smile he couldn't prevent lingering on his lips and looking outside, he answered. "Yes, anyway, Jareth became known across the empire as the Illusion Isle King, no longer the High Prince or Heir." 

Sariel looked down at his hands: the Illusion Isle, a living nightmare, people said, a demoniac paradise, other whispered. How right they were. Sariel wouldn't be the one who would tell her what Jareth went through to conquer that Isle, he, himself didn't really know but he had a fairly good idea of the pain Jareth had to overcome. Foolish little boy, he had always been. 

"And being the Illusion Isle King isn't a small affair, you see, the island keeps on moving and hiding itself, so it's extremely difficult to locate it if you've never been there at least once. But Jareth found it." 

Sariel looked up and smiled sadly. "A morning, he disappeared from the Imperial Palace and his whereabouts were unknown during a whole year. What he did during that year, or where he was is still unknown as he had hidden himself. But when he came back, he proclaimed himself as the Illusion Isle King. Nobody believed him, his father the first but Jareth showed them his pendant, the proof of his duty and rank and everybody had to believe his word." 

Sariel fell silent and he gazed outside. He had been a wreck during the first three months, then hope had battled in his heart with dread, hope always hanging on the fact that if he was hidden, that meant he was consciously doing it, therefore alive, dread always snickering on how alive Jareth was. 

Sariel's loop-sided grin was so sad, that Sarah unconsciously tightened her hands around Jareth. Jareth's caretaker must have been through Hell and back several times with Jareth around. 

Thinking about the ruffian, Sarah's gaze fell on his face to find a pair of mismatched eyes looking away, lost in the visions of the past only them could see. The melancholy, loneliness and constant anger Sarah read there were shockingly painful to her heart somehow, but why, that was the question. Sarah stiffened suddenly: Jareth was awake. The jerk was awake for only god knew for how long and he had remained on her lap, pretending sleep. 

Noticing Sarah's sudden uneasiness, Jareth raised his eyes and smirked at her, then, carefully, slowly, as if he had a major headache, Jareth kneeled in front of her, drawling ironically. "Sariel… Bragging about old stories again. Can't you let the past lie?" Jareth never looked at her, but sat next to her, leaning his back against the wall at her right, leaning his head backwards, closing his eyes. He was moving carefully and Sarah saw Sariel's eyes, who had turned to face Jareth, glitter happily. 

Sariel smiled and put his cigarette in the ashtray. He stretched like a cat, his arms up in the air, rounding his back and smiling once more, he made his way to the door, answering Jareth. "Alright, when you will learn."

"Idiot." Jareth growled back, opening his eyes, as Sariel closed the door behind him, without meeting Sarah's pleading gaze of not letting her alone with Jareth.

Sarah was feeling suddenly really conscious of herself and started to fidget with the shirt she was wearing. After Charlie's phone call, she had jumped in a pair of old jeans, with a white shirt saying 'protect me from what I want'. Jareth had raised a delicate eyebrow at the T-shirt she had chosen and she had raised her little chin in defiance, but he had only smiled and kept his mouth closed, but it didn't stop his lips from quivering up. It had almost felt normal to be with Jareth, watching him dress, watching him run his hand through his short messy hair, almost. 

Then, when Jareth and her had parted, she had felt so angry and hurt, that she had torn apart almost all the tabloids that could fall under her hands, before collapsing on Charlie's comforting lap. Charlie had easily talked her into calling Jareth to apologize, but Sarah suddenly realized they hadn't even exchanged their phone numbers, just jumped in bed, last night and after another roll of tears, she had decided to meet him, and dragging Steward behind them, Sarah and Charlie had decided to go over his place immediately. 

Jareth wasn't saying anything, she was too embarrassed to talk, but the silence was too awkward, too painful to stay that way, therefore, she asked him lamely. "Jareth, are you alright?" As he didn't answer her after quite some time, Sarah feared he had fallen asleep again, so she raised her eyes to him again, to find that he was staring at her. With his hard, cold eyes, with those eyes she could easily fall into.  

"Yes, I'm fine." He answered harshly and looked away. And the uncomfortable silence claimed the room once more while Sarah bit her lower lip almost to blood. 

..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..

As Sarah closed the door behind her, after following Jareth inside his bedroom, Iome turned around to face Sarah's friends: the woman was worriedly looking at the closed doors, wincing at each of the yells coming through, while the man sighed and brought an arm around the woman's shoulders. The matching bands, which glittered in the sun as their hands joined on the woman's shoulder convinced Iome of her first suspicions. 

On the other side, the yells suddenly stopped and Sariel smiled, flicking once more his finished cigarette in the garden. Iome walked closer to the couple.

"What about a breakfast? I just woke up and I'm starving." She said, shrugging her tanned shoulders, smiling reassuringly. Sariel rolled his eyes heavenward and drawled.

"Iome, it's almost noon. It's no longer time for a breakfast." He pointed out, leaning on the wall. Iome let a small smile grace her cherry lips: of course, the Heir Guardian wouldn't leave his master in such crisis. 

Iome flicked her honey-like hair over her shoulder and walked past Sariel without acknowledging his comment.

"Come on, my dears, I think you two would be delighted for a cup of coffee." She smiled as she took the man's arms under her own, her other arm slipping easily around the woman's waist. The woman raised an eyebrow, threw a look over her shoulder, but upon seeing Sariel who waved back at her, she nodded and turned her eyes back to Iome. 

Charlie smiled: at least, someone was staying near the door in case, one of the two blockheads inside tried to murder the other, someone was close enough to stop them. Charlie turned her gaze back to Iome, smiling sweetly to her. "Let's go, my husband makes the best coffee in the world."

Iome's eyes glittered and she almost purred. "Then, let's go!" She laughed, Charlie's giggles joining hers while Steward shook his head a little. Iome led the two in the opposite direction from where they came from and passed before two others before climbing down another flight of stairs.

As the three of them made their way towards the kitchen, Iome asked Charlie. "You said you were called?" She let her voice trail, letting Charlie answer her.

Charlie grinned back. She liked that woman: the way she had fought with Jareth had been amazingly brilliant. "I'm Charlie and this is my husband, Steward." 

Iome nodded and took a deep breath, winking. "Well, thanks for dragging Sarah here."

Charlie grinned again, while Steward said. "In fact, it's Sarah who dragged us here."

Iome turned to him, surprised. "Really?"

"Yes, she wanted to sort out things with him." Charlie explained. The fight these two had been into the morning had been quite a terrifying sight. Oh, there had been obviously something between the two, ten ago, and they had obviously parted on bad terms the first time. "After the fight they had this morning…" Her voice trailed, not wanting to go in further the details.

"It wasn't a pretty sight." Steward confirmed and as they entered the kitchen, he detangled himself from Iome's arms and moved around the counter to the coffee machine. Checking the machine, he kept on. "Afterwards, Sarah cried a bucket, threw a tantrum and finally decided on coming here." He raised his eyes to meet Iome's eyes and threw her a sad boyish grin. "Where's the coffee?" He asked, looking over his shoulder to the cupboard. The kitchen was grand and well lit, with a table and a bar. Charlie was sitting upon one of the black high chairs, while Iome rounded the counter too, to reach a cupboard from where she extracted cups. 

"In here." She answered Steward, as she opened a drawer, where forks, knives and spoons lied. "How did you find the house?" She asked, as she closed it, three spoons in her right hand. Steward opened the cupboard Iome had pointed to and rummaged through it, looking for a coffee he liked, among the dozen of variety of teas, coffees and other stuff stored there. 

Charlie straightened and grinned. "I'm a proud member of the Kings Fan club!" She announced.

Iome set a cup in front of her, while Steward made the water to boil, as he had found a coffee brand he liked. At Charlie's proud announcement, Steward raised his green eyes over the rim of his glasses and grinned at his wife, while all Iome could say was.  "Ah." Steward laughed lightly at Iome's blank look, but finally Iome shrugged and went through the cupboards again, taking out cereals, bread, marmalade, bigger spoons and bowls setting them all on the table. 

"Sarah is my best friend." Charlie said, as she followed with her eyes Iome moved through the kitchen. "I hope Jareth won't make her cry again, otherwise, he'll be singing on a much higher note after I'm finished with him." Iome turned around to face Charlie but the other woman was smiling sweetly back at her, a smile Iome finally sent back after a while.

"Charlie…" Steward sighed. 

Finally, Iome moved to the refrigerator and took out a half empty bottle of milk and some fruit juices she found. For a while, only the sound of the coffee machine resonated in the kitchen, then Iome slammed the refrigerator's door closed and whirled around, setting down with force the last fruit juice she had found. Quickly, before any of the other two could react, she leaned on Charlie, her blue eyes glittering. "Let's set them up."

"What?" Charlie gasped aloud and Steward burst in laughter after a moment of pure astonishment. 

Iome straightened a little and blinked. "You've never played matchmakers?" She asked wryly. 

Upon this, Sariel strolled in the kitchen, another cigarette in mouth. He had just got out of Jareth's room and had his little chat with Sarah. Now, he hoped that Jareth would be the one talking to her. Sariel could have sighed aloud when he had understood Jareth had told her nothing or very little. How could he expect her to understand and accept if he didn't tell her anything? 

As he walked in the kitchen, Iome's last announcement froze him and he growled, warningly. "Iome, don't start with that."

Iome whirled around, her warm blond hair delicately framing her perfect innocent face. "I'm not talking to you." She said bluntly, as scornful as she could, raising her little chin. Really, Sariel thought for maybe the hundred times, her face wasn't fit at all with her language and behavior. 

"No need to be rude." He answered, a bit hurt at her insolent answer. He pulled a high chair out and sat on it, while Iome went and wordlessly gave him a cup. Sariel rolled his eyes: one could have given Iome God without confession with one of her smile… Until one heard her talk, that for sure. A wry smile on his lips, Sariel thanked her with a nod of his head.

Iome sent him a dirty look and turned back to Charlie. "So, what do you think? If we combine our skills, I'm pretty sure we could set them up." She proposed.

"We…"Charlie hesitated. It sounded quite possible. And tempting. "We don't even know each other."

Iome waved her objection away with a lazy flick of her left hand, while she poured cereals in one of the bowls. "Don't matter. You obviously care for Sarah and know her… While I care for Jareth and know him." She added with a wry smile, which made Sariel chuckle, and after another dirty look in his general direction, she added some milk to her bowl. 

Charlie surveyed her carefully for a long time. Then, as Steward poured some coffee in her mug, she asked, quietly, gently, softly. "Why do you want to do that?" The tone was sweet but the eyes weren't. Iome saw it immediately and Sariel narrowed his eyes at her over the rim of his fuming cup. He was warning her to keep her mouth closed or to find a really convincing lie Charlie would buy. Iome knew Charlie would refuse and do whatever possible to prevent her from setting Jareth and Sarah up if the answer she was about to give didn't please her. Iome bit her lip. Sariel's glare was burning holes in her heart. 

But, she would tell the truth, as painful it was for him to hear and reminisce, she would tell.  "I…" Iome hesitated, a last minute doubt and looked away from Sariel, who set the cup on the counter with force as she resumed her talking. His condemnation. He wouldn't forget her betrayal of his feelings. 

Charlie jumped in surprise, when Sariel set the cup down with an unnecessary force, but she didn't pay it much attention as Iome had started talking. "I know Jareth for long now, I can even truthfully say I saw him the day he was born. But, I was always watching, always watching. I never extended my hand to help him, even when he would have asked me." 

Iome paused once more, her head bent, she picked up a large spoon and started twirling it in her bowl, endlessly. "But, he never did, because he knew that I wouldn't give him what he needed. And then, Jareth never reproached me nothing." The circle kept on and on, as she remembered. Watching him, so young, evolve in the Imperial Court, seeing his eyes turning more and more icy. 

She kept on with a broken voice. "Each time, I saw somebody give him a stab in the back, I saw him bend a little to grow stronger and stand even more higher than he was before. Jareth… Jareth is the kind of person who, when they look at you, can see the depths of your soul, even the corners you don't want to see yourself." The circle stopped and Iome raised her head. She smiled poorly to Charlie and added in a whisper, her head tilt on her side. "Besides, it was my best friend's wish."

"Your best friend?" Charlie repeated, curious.

"Iome." A word, a whole meaning, her name. How weird, Iome pondered, how a name can change said in a different tone. So cold and menacing, can he be. Iome turned her eyes to Sariel, who had tighten his jaw, his eyes accusing her. But, it was too late to turn around now.

So, locking her eyes, full of sorrow on Sariel, she said. "Millibel, Jareth's older sister."

Sariel grew agitated. "Iome, don't start with that." He snap, and prayed she wouldn't tell too much.

Iome snap back. "They need to know!" 

Sariel growled. "If Jareth ever hears that you…"

And Iome was disappointed. But didn't let it show and quickly, she shot back at him. "And who would tell him?" 

"Iome!" He threatened, but she wouldn't hear reason now.

In defy, she raised her chin once more, her defiant gaze and proud composure made him want to smack her perfect face with all his might.  "Tell him if you want, Millibel's wish is the more important to me." She said, her eyes blazing, leaning a little towards him. Oh, she knew, she knew he itched to slap her. Just as she knew he wouldn't. Just as she knew he still blamed himself for not telling Millibel sooner he loved her because he had always believe he was from a too low rank from her. Just as she knew why he had become a chain smoker. 

"What was it?" Charlie suddenly asked, breaking the tension between the two, without knowing it.

Steward put a hand on her arm, restraining her. "Charlie, if it's so private, maybe we shouldn't…"

Charlie whirled around to face him and cut him. "If it has something to do with Sarah, I want to know and right now." She said, her voice raising, as she turned back to Iome.

Iome took several small calming breaths and said, her eyes first on Sariel, slowly moving back to Charlie.  "Millibel was sick for a long time, an incurable illness and Jareth was desperate. He made a pact with her: she wouldn't die until he had granted her 100 wishes. She died the day she made her 100th wish."

"Which was?" Charlie insisted.

Iome smiled at her stubbornness. "She wished Jareth to be happy. Even if he didn't understand it that way, that was what she meant." Iome shrugged and took a sip of the coffee Steward had poured in her cup. It was indeed delicious, but today, the savor had fled her. 

"What did she exactly wish for, then?" Steward asked, interested despite himself. He understood Charlie's fierceness at protecting Sarah, as she had been the one to introduce Andrew to Sarah. As he knew Charlie still hit herself over the head for doing that.

"That Jareth went back to Sarah." Sariel answered. He was sitting there, his shoulders down, looking up, a cigarette between his lips. 

Iome threw him a look and turned back to Charlie and Steward. "Millibel strongly believed Sarah was the only woman for Jareth. After what happened between them and the wreck Jareth was afterwards, it was obvious to anyone knowing him that he loved her deeply. Even if, he refused to admit it himself." Iome added a bit lower, talking more to herself than to Charlie and Steward. From the corner of her eyes, she watched over Sariel, worried. Would he fall again in depression, after her confession?

"I'll help." Charlie suddenly said and Iome turned to her sharply, looking like she was seeing light for the first time in her life. "I don't know if he's the right man for Sarah, but he looks like he wants to be him." Charlie smiled sweetly.

"How can you say that?" Iome asked, completely bluffed. 

Charlie shrugged. "Don't know." She looked away for a while, trying to find her words. "It's an impression." She frowned and stuck her tongue out for excuse as she couldn't find a better way to explain. "Whenever I see him look at her, I just know."

Steward grinned too and nodded to Charlie. "So, what do we do?" Like a boy planning a new prank, he rubbed his hands together.

"I don't think it would be a good idea." The voice was old and dull, without any tone or color, dead. Sariel turned his eyes to them, his cigarette hanging dangerously in the corner of his lips. His eyes were cold gray like stone, just like the first time they had met, Charlie thought and shivered. 

Iome livened up and Charlie thought how an odd couple these two made. Iome was like the sun, with her honey locks and her radiant sky blue eyes while Sariel was the moon, with his cold gray stone-like eyes and dark hair. "And what do you want to do, Sariel, leaving them that way?" Iome asked him hotly. "You know, maybe more than me, how much this kid deserves to be happy. If there has to be only one person in the world who deserve to be happy, it's him!"

Sariel turned his cold eyes on her and observed her in silence, while she panted in front of him, from fury, then, as he flicked his cigarette in the nearby ashtray, he said coldly. "Do whatever you want, but don't come back crying to me if it fires right back at you."

..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..

The silence remained untouched and painful, cold and mocking her in Jareth's apartment. Since Sariel had left, and that the two of them had found themselves alone together, her fingers were enough to count the numbers of words, which had been exchanged between the two of them. Sarah had to find something to tell him, anything! 

But, she didn't even know what she wanted to talk to him about. She feared his answers more than the questions. She feared what his answers could bring on her. So, remained the silence. Sarah looked down at her hands again: her knuckles were all white, as she was twisting her hands nervously together, not daring to look at him. 

"What do you want, Sarah?" His voice surprised her, cut through the thick silence like a knife would have. Sarah jumped and gasped loudly, then immediately clasped her hands over her mouth, berating herself with her foolish behavior. For Pete's sake, she told herself, I'm no longer fifteen! 

But, it didn't help nor stop the shaking of her voice. "I… I wanted to talk." She risked a small peek at his hard profile and Jareth was indeed looking ahead of him, his fixed gaze turning him even scarier, at the air of solemnity that seemed to whirl around him.

"There, talk." He said. 

Taking her courage in her hands, Sarah licked her lips, looking down, while kneeling to face him. Nervous, her voice trembled. "Jareth, I…" Sarah raised her eyes to him. He still wasn't looking at her. "About earlier, I'm sorry, it's just that, well, I believed, that you were a different being than I and… Well, I mean…" She stammered and looked for her words, but failing, she didn't add anything. 

Jareth finally turned his gaze on her and with an arrogant smirk asked her. "Cat finally got your tongue?" He drawled and Sarah could have crave his eyes out with a spoon. How dared he? He was as at fault that she was. Sure, she shouldn't have blamed him like she had, but he could have explained, he could have said, she would have understood. But he didn't let her the time to vent her anger at him. "You believed." He said, his eyes pinning her where she was, muted. "You wanted to believe I was different, but I am human, Sarah." He said her name, almost like it was hurting him. Livening up, he grabbed her forearms and almost crushed them in his vice-like grip. But none paid attention. "I bleed, I hurt, I laugh and cry like humans living aboveground and I do die of old age. Why do you refuse me the possibility of being of this world?" He didn't pause to let her answer, knowing she didn't have the answer. "Sarah, I'm tired of livening up to your expectations of me. Let's drop the mask you forcibly placed on my face fourteen years ago."

Sarah shook his hands off her arms and repeated, her voice climbing few octaves in the process. "Forcibly? You could have refused the summoning and leave Toby alone, that night! You could have…"

"Yes, I could have!" Jareth yelled back, cutting her neatly. "Just like you could have not say the words, just like Toby could have not had some magic flowing in his veins!" He finished on an angry tone.

The world was sinking, the room was shaking and all Sarah knew was the new piece of information he had given her and yet, she couldn't believe him. "Toby?"

Frustrated, Jareth fell back against the wall and running a hand in his short hair, he explained with a strained voice. "Either from his mother, or his father, but someone in his family had magic and it was passed on Toby." Jareth angrily kept on, looking away. "When you called me, it was for me the occasion to take a potential magical baby." His eyes turned to her once more and turned fierce and his mouth contracted into a cynical, almost painful smirk. "By the way, this world already sucked up all the magic he could have had, so don't worry, your little Toby doesn't interest me anymore." 

"Liar!" Sarah screamed. "How could this be?"

"Oh?" Jareth picked up, ironically and he asked her slowly, ironically, teasing her nastily. "So, a Fae King is easier to accept that a human with a different kind of power?" Then, his voice quickened, accusing her. "I've never thought you could be so narrow minded, Sarah."

Sarah shook her head wildly. "That's not what I meant!" She was on the verge of screaming of frustration.  "It's just that thinking that Karen could have some magical blood and…" 

Jareth cut her sharply. "Who said it had to be the mother? It could be the father." He pointed out. 

And it struck her. "Then what about me?" She asked, pitifully.

Jareth didn't answer her immediately. Instead, he looked at her thoughtfully for a while, before saying carefully. "It doesn't express all the time. If it's from your father, then it was suppressed by your mother's blood but with Toby, it was your father's blood which prevailed."

Shocked, Sarah's mind whirled on what he had said.  "Are you telling me magic has to do with genes and the DNA?" Her voice got drawling and she taunted him. "Yeah, right, I bet you don't even know what the DNA is."

Jareth gritted his teeth. Of course, she had to do that. "I've gone to middle and high school and even college here." He informed her, haughty. Then once more, his voice turned accusing and Jareth leaned on her. "So, yes, I know what I'm talking about and yes, it has been proved that it's an alteration in a particular gene that permits such abilities to reveal themselves."

"What?" She squealed.

Jareth snorted and leaned back on the wall. "I'm answering your question. It's a question of genes."

"You've been school aboveground." Sarah whispered as if it was a kind of revelation. 

Jareth looked aside, once more, looking away, his eyes lost somewhere only he could be. "Think about it: if there is an Above world, that means that it exists an Under world. It's the same old story of the half empty glass." He told her almost wearily.

The amount of information made her brain whirl. She ran a frustrated hand in her long black hair and stammered. "I don't… I can't… It's so…" Giving up explaining what she felt, Sarah asked him bluntly. "Then, how old are you?"

"Above years, around 28, 30." Jareth said. "I never bothered to really count. Also, my years here are also the reason why Sariel, Iome and I look around the same age while the two of them are way older than me. Underground days are slower than the Aboveground ones. When I was here, except for the vacations, I was in a boarder school. Aboveground schools are reputed to give a higher level of education rather underground ones. But, it's expensive that's why a few of us only do the whole course like I did. Sariel and Iome only did college." Jareth turned his eyes in her direction: on her knees, her gaze bewildered, her hair falling on her shoulders like a waterfall, her face flustered, she was so beautiful. "We are humans, Sarah." He started softly. "Humans with magic, that's all. We're not different. Aboveground people believe we're immortal but that's false, it's just that our days are longer than yours. How come? I don't know but it is the way things are."

Sarah dropped her gaze to the ground. "That's so unbelievable…" She whispered.

And it angered him once more. Why couldn't she believe him? Why wouldn't she trust him? After all they went through together, after all they have shared, she still didn't trust him, or was it him who placed too much importance on it? Was it him who had thought they could have something together, while she… He didn't want to go down that road, he already had. Jareth gritted his teeth and pushed through. "Yeah, but that's my world. Just because you couldn't see it before means that it doesn't exist, nor that it's false." 

Sarah didn't remark the biting tone or the tension building up once more in his shoulders. "Sariel…" She said softly, thinking aloud. "Sariel told me about… The Illusion Isle." She looked up at him.

"Ah, that Sariel." Jareth drawled and maybe she would have laughed if she hadn't been so uncomfortable by his piercing gaze set on her. "Even to save his own life, he wouldn't know how to keep his mouth closed. What is it, little Sarah?" He asked nastily. "What more do you want to know? My whole life?" He asked her ironically again. "Then let me tell you something, mismatched eyes are signs of bad luck, in the underground. Mismatched eyes… Monster's eyes!" His voice livened up and he took her by the arms again, pulling her roughly to him, crushing her against his chest. He approached his mouth to her ear and whispered fiercely, like giving her a secret long kept inside and finally letting it out. "I like the Devil's gaze better. Oh! And when that countess treated me of Demon's child! Mother was ready to blast her in outer space! Not because the woman treated me of Demon's child but rather because she implied Mother or Father were demons. She wasn't so far from the truth, don't you think? A beast in a human form! And a Prince, nonetheless!" His hold on her arms tightened and Sarah squirmed, trying to shake his hold off her.

Sarah squirmed out of his arms, but his hands were still attached to her arms. "Stop it!" She yelled at first. "Why are you so mad? So, I didn't know! But now I do!" She pleaded then. "So stop, stop!" She then added, on a whisper. "You're hurting me."

Jareth's hold softened and pulling with one hand on her arm, he quickly wrapped the other around her shoulders. "Humans are all alone, just bumping in each others in the way, but always alone." He was still whispering and she couldn't see his face. "Sarah, you keep on forcing your expectations on me. I am the way I am and I won't change it for you or anyone else. You wanted to know, you refused to believe me, you took everything like a joke when it's my life. You refused, once more, to see the truth, so I'm asking you, little Sarah, what do you really want from me?"

Sarah blinked and cursed inwardly, tears were coming again. "I… I… I don't know." She finally spluttered. 

Jareth released her but she stayed where she was, when he said aloud. "I'm sorry dearest, but that's not an option." He raised her chin, by placing two fingers under it and surprising her, he placed his mouth against hers. Forcibly, his tongue entered her mouth and roughly brushed against hers, as if he was taking a last taste of her, as if he wanted to remember her feel against him. 

Her lips were probably bruised, but she didn't care and when she felt him retreat, she threw her arms around his neck, preventing him from breaking the kiss a first time. She pressed her lips against his, leveling her lower body to place a leg each side of him, so that she could kissed him better. She was sitting on his lap, rather she was kneeling over him. 

His hands traveled up her thighs to her waist and pushing her gently away, he broke the kiss, his eyes locking with hers, he said, leaving her broken. "I was asking for so little from you, so little." He whispered. "You are so cruel." Pushing her away again, Jareth stood up and walked away, while she stayed where she was, facing the wall and only then, she realized the kiss had tasted like salt, like tears.

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The knock on the doorframe was unexpected and unwanted, so were the tears cursing their way silently down her cheeks. Sarah had sobbed this morning in Charlie's arms, but now, in Jareth's bed where she had moved after that he had left her, alone facing the wall, she was crying silently, breathing in his scent, covering the sheets. She was buried, on her stomach in his bed. "Sarah, are you all right?" 

The voice was gentle and familiar, so was the hand caressing her hair. Her grip tightened on the white sheets: she had moved on his bed only to smell him. Maybe there, she could understand him and his damn twisted ways. Why had he pushed her away? The question plagued her. They were almost getting along fine, they had almost stopped arguing so why? She really didn't understand him. 

Sarah finally looked up from the pillow, where she had buried her face and turned to see Sariel, sitting on the bed next to her, Iome standing up near the head of the bed, her hands on her slender hips. "What a jerk." Sarah finally let out, in a shaky voice.

"My thought exactly." Iome angrily said and she kneeled down, taking her face next to Sarah's.

"Where are my friends?" Sarah asked, looking up at Sariel, who hadn't said a word since the first question. The movement of her hand on her hair was smoothing her immensely, but she wanted to go home.

"Left already." Iome informed her and with a delicate shrug, she added. "They thought you would need some space."

"Hum." Sarah acknowledged her and nodded. 

"Sarah, I have a confession to make." Sariel suddenly said and Sarah turned her attention to him.

"What?" She asked, wearily. She was tired, so tired. If Sariel and Iome hadn't come, Jareth would have found her asleep on his bed.

Sariel seemed to hesitate, then he told her softly. "Jareth Bane is his full name, not a fake name he invented." Thinking to himself, Sariel added inwardly.

Besides, he's still under my spell. Mentally, Sariel sighed and damned Jareth a little. I should have known better. Jareth has always been too quick at anger and his tongue has always been too sharp for his own good. Silly boy, you're going to regret each of the syllabus you've uttered and you're going to plague me with your regrets and sorrow. Sariel looked down at Sarah: through the curtain of her black hair, on the white sheets, her green eyes were piercing like the first leaf  of a long-awaited spring. Millibel… Sariel whispered in the corner of his mind. You should have let him in the hands of another, I'm too old to raise him a second time.

"Bane…" Sarah repeated and she turned to Iome, when the latter said.

"In the Underground, it's the mother who names the child when the child is born and when the Queen saw Jareth and his mismatched eyes, she gave him the name of  her father and the second name: Bane." Iome bit her lip. She still could see Jareth's young face when he first learned what 'Bane' meant. Betrayal and pain weren't strong enough to describe his young face and eyes at that time.

Shocked, Sarah raised in the bed. Resting on her hands, she looked alternatively between Iome and Sariel, demanding. "How could she?"

Sariel shook his head. It wasn't his or Iome's right to tell her that story. "Jareth grew up in the hatred of his name and his parents for naming him this way. He grew up in a court where everyone would mock him because of his eyes while curtsying so gracefully in front of him. How do you think he ended up? Angry. That's another of the reasons why he took over the Illusion Citadel."

"Where is he, now?" Iome asked Sarah, but the latter only shook her head, downcast.

"I don't know, he left a while ago." 

"What a jerk." Iome growled and Sarah collapsed back on the bed. "I'm going to fetch him and make him take you home." Sarah heard Iome leave the room and raised her face in alarm.

"No, it's okay, I…" But Iome cut her, saying over her shoulder.

"No. If you call a cab, it will be known that you were here and god knows the vultures outside would love it and Sariel, nor I, can drive, only Jareth learnt. So, we have not many choices, here."

Sarah didn't answer, but even if she did Iome wouldn't have heard, as she had already exited Jareth's apartment.

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Iome easily located Jareth: it was her own particular power. Jareth was in the music room, as expected when he was upset. The house music room was giant: it occupied all the second floor of the house, from where they could even see the glittering ocean. The journalists and photographers were gone, for they had waited hours in front of the mansion, without a reaction and they had left shortly after noon. Iome could tell by the position of the sun she could see through one of the window pane of the ceiling that it was around three in the afternoon. The music room was Jareth's little sanctuary: the ceiling was just a juxtaposition of windows, so that he could always see the sky. 

The room wasn't really one, it was rather the attic of the house and it held Jareth's touch everywhere. Some places, it was faint, almost invisible, but it was there, in the presence of a careless sheet of music, on which was scribbled something, looking like a melody or lyrics. Other places, it was a vest, a shirt even. Otherwise, a forgotten coffee mug, half empty of cold coffee. Here was where Jareth composed and played to himself. Here, he was almost at peace.

Jareth was sitting on a window frame: one of his leg inside the house, the other outside, hanging in space. Jareth was aware of her presence, at the way his shoulders had stiffened and how he stubbornly kept his gaze outside. Iome paced closer and put her hands behind her back. "Jareth, take her home." She said softly.

"No." 

Iome frowned sadly and one of her hands extended to brush his hair out of  his eyes, but stopped midway and fell back to her side. "Jareth." She called against, sadly.

Jareth didn't turn to her when he answered. "You can lie to her but you can't lie to me." His tone was harsh and his stance tense. The meeting had been as difficult on him than it had been on Sarah. Why had he pushed her away? He, himself, didn't know. All he knew was that he couldn't stand no more that salt kiss, tasting like her tears. He couldn't stand it, so he brushed it away. 

"Take her home, Jareth." Iome's voice somewhere insisted, but Jareth almost didn't hear it. "She needs it." Iome said again.

"What about me?" Jareth suddenly asked. He wasn't even looking outside: even to save his own life he wouldn't even be able to say what the scenery was like.

Iome sighed, upset and asked him back, in a wry tone. "Why did we come here, if not for you?" 

This time, Jareth did turn his head and rolled his eyes at her. "You're really pissing me off."

"Bah." Iome shrugged and came closer, enough to pull on his arm. "Move on."

But Jareth didn't bulge even an eyebrow. "Iome."

"What?" Her hand still on his arm, she stilled and waited.

Jareth finally started to explain, after a few minutes of silence. "I didn't think it could go wrong so quickly." He wasn't looking at her, he was looking at all he's said, at all he's done since he had decided to go aboveground, to go to her. "I knew she had a horrible temper, that somewhere along the line, we would have fought, but so quickly…" Jareth paused once more, a sad smile lingered on his lips. Then, quicker than the time needed to say it, his expression changed and turned darker than she had even seen. "This may have been a terrible mistake."

Finally, Iome released him and stepped back, as he threw his leg inside, standing up. Jareth was towering over her with a good head and he was dashingly handsome. His features were so beautifully made that he could have been right out of a dream. It really wasn't fair: to be so beautiful and so broken inside. "Really?" Iome challenged him. "How can you tell? It's not over until you say so." Putting her fists on her hips, Iome looked up and down at him. He hadn't changed clothes, but at least he had bathed, she remarked. However the shoulders were held high more by habitudes than by feeling. "Jareth…" Iome started soflty. What she was going to say was either going to unleash his fury on her, either make him ignore her. "I know you almost since you were born. I saw you grow up, I saw you pulling the strings to your advantage, I saw you flirt with people you scorned, I saw you turn your back to people you loved, each time I saw the would getting wider and deeper. This may be your only chance to mend it all and…" Jareth cut her.

"Where is she?" He demanded. 

He didn't want to hear any further. "Crying, again." Iome paused, as Jareth started to move in the direction of the exit. "In Sariel's arms." Oh, she knew which buttons were needed to be pushed. "On your bed." This was the last blow. 

Jareth froze and his hand, which had been on the railway, tightened. "Hum." As he had walked past her, all that Iome could see was his back.

But she knew better. "You're really messed up, you know."

Jareth turned his face to look at her and smiled to her. "She's messing me up." The smile surprised her, as it was a real smile, a genuine smile. A recognition, a proof, maybe a solution, probably a downfall.

Iome stared and asked bluntly, without being able to stop herself. "If she's so vital to you, why don't you give it a go? Jareth, isn't she worth it?" She pleaded with him, approaching him, resting her hands on his shoulders, as he had descended a few steps already, but her words had stopped him once more.

Jareth remained silent and finally admitted. "I don't know."

"Really?" She pushed but Jareth shook his head lightly.

"I'll think over it." 

Iome pulled back her hands angrily and pushed him, so that she could go down first. As she past, she saw his surprised face at her behavior and she bit a little too aggressively. "Then think fast, otherwise the lady could decide you are not worth another try." Whirling on the steps to face him, as she had descended two more steps than Jareth, she had to look up at him. "She came here, Jareth, she came after your fight this morning, she came by herself trying to patch up things. She cares, why don't you?" 

Jareth's face immediately darkened and brushing past her again, he whispered loud enough so that she could hear him. "You talk too much."

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Still on Jareth's bed, sitting on it her legs crossed under her, hugging his pillow to her chest, Sarah mumbled, her voice a bit muffled by the pillow as she had brought it high enough to scent it. "He's like a rough diamond." She confessed to Sariel. "So many different facets that when I think I finally caught him, another one reveals itself and I'm lost all over again. And then, when I try to turn the diamond, his rough facets cut into my skin and push me away. I don't want…" Sarah didn't keep on. She didn't know what she didn't want to. Oh, she knew she didn't want to go on like that, but she couldn't let go of him either. 

Sariel leaned on one of the column of Jareth's bed. "A rough diamond, huh?" He smirked. 

Sarah looked up from the pillow and grinned sadly. "Even though your physical appearance is different and so is your voice, the feeling is the same, Hoggle." How many times had she sat on her bed and whispered her secrets to Hoggle, in the mirror. 

How many times had she called him? She had called less often after college but he had understood and then, three years ago, even if she called he wouldn't come. Sarah had been worried, till one day, as she came back from work, she had found him, waiting for her, in her mirror like usual. She remembered he had looked strained and worn out and he had told her he wouldn't be able to come as one of his most important persons had died. Sarah had known long ago than Hoggle had a little group of persons he held dearly to his heart, but she would have never thought, this group included Jareth and his sister. 

Sariel smiled and shrugged. "Hum, it was me. You could say that Hoggle is one of my many facets." 

"But yours are more polished." She pointed out and Sariel couldn't help but chuckle. 

"Ah. I'm doing my best at 'polishing' his since he was 5 but as you could see yourself, up until now, no luck."

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Iome ran in the room, surprising the two on the bed, telling them hastily that Jareth was driving Sarah back to her place and as she put on her shoes, Sariel scribbled something on a paper he put in Sarah's hand with a wink and a quick whispered advice of hiding it from Jareth. Then, Iome ushered her to the basement and Jareth. 

Jareth was driving a black car and when she saw the color, she couldn't say she was surprised. Everything about him seemed black, at the moment. Sighing, as Jareth was already in the car, waiting for her, not acknowledging her in any way, Sarah climbed in, waving a sad goodbye at Iome and Sariel. The ride home wasn't exactly the warmest ever. Sarah felt like she was sitting next to an iceberg and despite a few abrupt questions of general directions, Jareth didn't unclench his teeth. 

The only sound in the small car was coming from the radio, but Sarah didn't pay attention as she stubbornly focused her gaze on the scenery passing by. She didn't want to look at him and see rejection all over again. She knew if she did she would ask him the fatal question. Why? But, then, the announcer's cherry voice attracted her ear. 

"Next, we'll have the Kings new single! Innamoramento!"

Sarah jumped in surprise and couldn't help but threw Jareth a quick glance but his face revealed nothing. Disappointed, even if she didn't know why she was feeling that way, Sarah hastily turned away too and looked outside. The song came to life and Sarah tried to focus on the lyrics. Maybe they would help her to resolve a riddle called Jareth. 

You who couldn't recognize me

Ignoring my life, this monastery, 

I have a half open door in front of me 

On a maybe

Even if I have to start all over again

You who didn't believe in my loneliness

Ignoring its cries, its sharp angles,

I have in my heart a tiny linen

Moon filament

Which supports here, an used diamond

But who loves

I didn't choose to be  
But it's here, the "Innamoramento"

Love, death, maybe

But to freeze time for a word

Everything dilates itself and surrenders to you

And it's here, the "Innamoramento"

All its being impose itself to me  
Find maybe finally an echo

You who didn't see the other side of

My memory with condemned doors

I have buried the past treasures

The wounded years

Do you understand I'll have to cease

I who haven't looked at the sky,

I have a half open door in front of me, but

The unknown has wounded more than one heart

And his soul mate

We hope for it, we wait for it, we even flee it,

But we love

I didn't choose to be  
But it's here, the "Innamoramento"

Love, death, maybe

But to freeze time for a word

Everything dilates itself and surrenders to you

And it's here, the "Innamoramento"

All its being impose itself to me  
To find maybe finally an echo.

Sarah gulped. He had said in his interview he was writing with his moods, meaning everything came from him and his emotions. It was on the tip of her lips, she wanted to ask him, but afraid to. Who was he singing for? 

And she remembered: a whispered promise, in a bathtub, a murmured response, eyes burning with a fire she wouldn't see again. He had told her everything was done for her. Could she also hope he was singing for her?  Turning to him, Sarah looked for her words, when the car came to a stop. They were in front of her building and she hadn't realized it until the very last moment, when he had stopped the car. 

"Jareth…" She tried to say how sorry she was for the way things had turned out, she was trying to explain she didn't want to let go, she was willing to say how wonderful waking up next to him, bathing with him had been and above all that she felt more than hatred or plain friendship for him. But he didn't let her the chance to. 

"We're here." His hands tightened on the wheel. He never looked at her. "Goodbye, Sarah." Wounded, Sarah exited the car, without a word, another glance, painfully knowing it was useless to expect a sign from him. 

As the car speeded away, Sarah turned a last time towards it and when Jareth rounded the corner, she could have sworn she had seen him furiously rub his left eye.

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I told you they were MONSTERS to write, these dialogues! Well, I hope you liked them, just as I enjoyed writing them (yes, that's just plain weird, I actually enjoyed writing this monstrosity, does this mean I enjoy stuff which hurt me? … Let's us not go down this road, human's brain [and mainly mine] is too weird to deal with.)

The song "Innamoramento" belongs to a French singer Mylène Farmer, from whom I've already used another song in another story (hint, hint: another Labyrinth story.)

Anyway, see you around, mikim.


	5. Monster Talked Monologues

Wishes

Monster Talked. Monologues.

Chapter 04

By mikim

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Standards disclaimers do apply to this fic, as I own very little of this fic.

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Hey, you guys, it's been so long! I think I told you my computer was an evil-sent. Well, I got the confirmation: it broke down on me again! Yes! But thank god, I needed to buy a new hardware (yeah, this time, it was windows who fucked up (excuse my language) and I only lost half of my stuff…) 

I know this is a short chapter, but I had the urge to write it. 

See you around and I hope you still like this.

Mikim.

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Sarah sighed as she closed the door, her back against the wooden material and slid on the ground like a lifeless doll made of faded wool. Her hands fell at her sides, the keys rolled on the floor, tingling in the lonely silence of her apartment. Her head weighted like a hundred pounds, too heavy for her to keep it up, so it rolled as if her neck was broken, her hair falling like a curtain shielding her, hiding her from the sight of her apartment. Apartment she didn't want to look at. The very apartment he had strolled in like he owned it, just a few hours earlier. 

Ah, she thought ironically to herself, bad habits died hard. She couldn't bring herself to say his name, even in the deep of her mind. Whenever she thought of him, she would designate him as a "he" but a really particular "he". A "he" that had a single tone, a tone reserved to this "he" only. Always he had to stand out, even in her head. 

Sighing again, Sarah's head rolled on the other side and her weary gaze fell on her living room and from where she sat she could see the horrid bunch of magazine, which lay on her low table. She didn't want to move, she didn't want to think, but she had to, it was part of the whole deal of being an adult and independent. Another sigh escaped the barrier of her lips and Sarah pushed on her hands to stand up. 

Wandering in this cold place she no longer felt like her home, Sarah moved her body to the bathroom, taking off her clothes on the way and letting them trail behind them, like a reminder of her passage. Naked, she opened the water taps to fill the bathtub and sitting on the rim, she reached for the salts but her hand froze over the transparent cover of her salt bottle. 

She wouldn't cry. Not now. She had done more than her share already. 

Sniffling, she opened the container and spread the violet crystals in the warm water in a fluid move. She put the half empty container back in place and stood up, heading back to the living room. That was one of the advantages of living alone and at the top floor, being able to move around as she wanted without fearing that somebody could witness her naked. Without looking what was inside, Sarah turned her CD player on and pressed the play button, there was always a CD inside. Then, turning on her heels, the remote control in her right hand, she went back to the bathroom and went inside the bathtub, twisting her hair in a loose bun to avoid getting it wet. 

But, if Sarah had looked on the low table of her living room, she would have a hasty written message, testimony that somebody else had been here between the time she had left her apartment with Charlie and Steward and when she had come home, alone. The paper had obviously be torn from the white notepad, next to the phone, usually used to take messages. The blue pen, which had served to trace the feminine writing, was still next to the paper, which read.

"_Dear Sarah, _

_I hope things went well with Jareth. Steward and I are here for you and you know it, give us a call when you get home. _

_                        Love, Charlie_

_P.S.: Steward burned his CD and I put it in your player. Whatever the outcome has been, listen to his songs, listen to his side of the story._"

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The first melody started, when Sarah leaned against the rim of her white bathtub. It was taunting, almost intimate, with only two guitars or maybe three guitars. A slow melody, which she didn't recognize but warm and relaxing. The guitars slowed down and a haunting voice, warm and low rose among them. A familiar voice. Stiffening suddenly at his voice, Sarah sat up and wide-eyed, quickly closed her arms around her knees that she had brought under her chin. She would recognize it anywhere, anytime. Against herself, she shivered under this voice, despite the warm water she was soaking in and again against herself, she listened closely to his words. 

            The rhythm was slow and the voice almost hushed, like the husky whisper of a lover after love. And she listened, like a bird throwing itself on a wall. 

I've been told our lives aren't worth a lot  
They run in an instant and fade like roses  
I've been told the time who runs is a bastard, whom from our pains  
Gets some mantles, but somebody told me…

That you sill loved me  
It's somebody who told me that you still loved me  
Is it possible then?

She caught her breath and closed her eyes, painfully.

_I've been told Destiny makes fun at us  
That it gives nothing and promises everything  
Seems like happiness is within hand's reach,_

_So we extend our hand  
And find ourselves mad  
But somebody told me…_

That you sill loved me  
It's somebody who told me that you still loved me  
Is it possible then?

The guitars quickened and his voice went higher, like he was experiencing a triumph, stating a fact he knew was true, like he was smiling, sharing a secret, teasing someone gently. 

But who was it that told me that you still loved me  
I can't remember it was late at night  
I still hear the voice but can't see the traits  
"She loves you, it's secret, don't tell her I told you…"  
You see, somebody told me…

The guitars slowly tuned down, until it sounded like only his bewitched voice was left. Like he was talking to somebody, so engrossed in the conversation that the outside world faded away.

That you still loved me, did somebody really tell me…  
That you still loved me, is it possible then?

The question hung in the air for a breath and the guitars came back gently, reminding themselves to the couple and his voice went back to its original husky whisper. 

I've been told our lives aren't worth a lot  
They run in an instant and fade like roses  
I've been told the time who runs is a bastard, whom from our pains  
Gets some mantles, but somebody told me…

That you sill loved me  
It's somebody who told me that you still loved me  
Is it possible then?

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During the whole song, Sarah had been like chained to her bathtub, unable to do anything but listen. Listen to his taunting voice, because of a silly article she had read and remembered, like a flash of a bad movie. 

'Yes, there's a muse, in fact there's 2. My sister first. This album was written for her, an ultimate dedication.' 'And the second one?' 'Secret. It's a girl I know.'

Lyrics born from his emotions and heart, lyrics and melody that actually had a sense, something he had confessed doing for her. Raising her eyes from the top of her knees, as the next song started, Sarah looked in front of her: she could see his figure, his face there, as he had been the same morning. She could feel his long legs surrounding her, his skin teasing hers. She could see the slow smile and the broad shoulders. 

Bending her head again, Sarah let her hands fall from around her knees, to reach for her collarbone, where she knew he had left a mark. Then, with trembling fingers and eyes closed, her fingers trailed to the top of her left breast where he had gently bitten her to… 

Enraged with herself, Sarah shook her head wildly, to get rid of the memories and  she turned on her right side, showing her back to the door, letting the warm water and bubbles cover her like a blanket. She refused to listen to another song, but couldn't bring herself to stop the CD player either. 

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He was driving, just for the sake of driving. Without a destination or a purpose, without a care and without thinking. He only kept his concentration on the road and its signs, his full attention to the road prevented his mind to wander elsewhere. Somewhere he didn't want to go. The fire went to the green and the engine roared to life in the early night and the black sport car speeded away in the night. Even Kings needed moments to themselves that was what made them different from Gods. The car engaged itself to a small road, following the coast, lost somewhere, out of the town, far from its lights and flames. Jareth slowed down carefully as his car was now engaged on a rocky and small road, probably leading to a viewing point of the black sea. 

The road finally came to a dead-end and Jareth stopped the engine. The wind was blowing strong enough to push his short bangs out of his eyes, as he stepped out of the car and with the wind, came to his nostrils the salted scent of the sea. Walking around his car, Jareth sat on the hood and gazed at the black sea. On his right, the city lights seemed so far away, reflected, dancing on the sea but where he was, the sea was black. The moon wasn't full, only a small quarter, smiling mockingly down at him permitted him to see a few foot away. 

What exactly was he really waiting from this thing with Sarah? 

The question came and imposed itself to him. Question he had tried his hardest to keep at bay. But here, in front of the sea, alone, he had nowhere, no one, nothing to run to, to lie to, except maybe to himself. What had he been really hoping for? 

Bringing one knee under his chin, Jareth fixed without really seeing it, the sea he knew was there. He definitely felt something for Sarah, but what was the question. Care? Maybe. Sometimes. Otherwise, he wouldn't have helped her when she had been drunk and ready to fall flat on her face on the concrete. 

Hate? Definitely. Jareth frowned. Yes, he hated the girl, because she was troubling. She had been busy disrupting his life ever since the first day he had laid his eyes upon her. Demanding things from him, ungratefully fighting him at every turn, refusing his law. Defeating him. Jareth clenched his jaw, it wasn't completely true. Hate was easy but a hate mixed with care? What kind of feeling was that? 

Then, there was that maddening possession he felt towards her. That crazy jealousy he felt when men watched her, that rage that consumed him when other men touched her. That was one of the things he couldn't explain to himself. Another was that need, that craving to feel her. Simply feel her. And why was he always granting her whatever she wished for? Why that craving to see her smile, to see those green orbs lit up with a fire that matched his.

He had often dreamed about her. Rather fantasized about her. He had always thought that it was because she had been the first to ever refuse him. The old folk always said that we only crave for what our fingers couldn't reach. 

Annoyed, Jareth swiftly stood up and paced a little towards the sea, deep in thought. What about those lyrics? He had written them under his sister watchful eyes. Music was their secret garden and he hadn't dared to lie. Millibel had been the one to initiate him to the writing of songs and poetry. Poetry he had never liked to write, so he had stuck to songs and melodies. An easier way to express himself than an actual diary or confession to someone.

Jareth crouched down and picked up a rock and played with it, passing it in his hands at different speeds and heights.

Words of love had been easy to put down on paper, but his sister had only selected a very few of the songs he had showed her. The most intimate songs he had written she picked up. Millibel had always had the gift to see right through people and through him the most. She had only chosen the songs he had written late a night, alone, in his study or in his rooms, on his books only her knew where to find. 

Those lyrics… They annoyed him. Some were too revealing, some were completely absurd. He had often wondered where he had found these, he had often wondered if he had really been the author of those inanities. Sometimes, when he looked back at them, he could remember the nights he had written them. Other times, he couldn't even fathom what had caused him to write these words down. But, something was sure, most of the songs had been written around Sarah's time in the Labyrinth. A few before her actual trip in his kingdom, another couples in the blurry times that had followed her leaving and the last ones in the following weeks of his recovery of her leaving. 

His hands stilled and his left fist closed almost painfully around the rock. 

Because he had been sick when she had left, more than sick, mad. Mad with pain. Pain of refusal, pain of rejection, the first one he had faced so bluntly. Besides, women never turned him down, he was the one turning them down.

Quickly, Jareth stood up and in a wide gesture, threw the rock at the sea. 

So, again, what exactly was he waiting from her? The exclusivity to hurt her? Maybe. Then why was he feeling so at peace and almost happy when she smiled up at him, or when her eyes dilated with pleasure, her lips murmuring his name. The night they had spent together, when he had lost complete control over his senses had been a mistake, but why wasn't he regretting it? 

On the opposite, his body yearned to hold hers close again, to bury himself inside of her, inside her essence and to feel her again. It was like he had touched Heavens once, then been kicked out and whatever happened to him, whatever wounds cut his skin, he would try to reach Heavens again.  Heavens… Jareth smirked. Heavens with Sarah? If that was Heavens, with all her yelling and demands, her questions and accusations, he'd rather go to Hell. Shaking his head lightly, Jareth turned around and walked back to his car.

A riddle it was. A last game his sister had given him to solve. If it wasn't for her, Jareth would have never sought to see Sarah again. He would have never bought this huge house, nor came back Aboveground for anything else but duty. 

Jareth got in the car and he wished he could be Underground, where he could use his magic, where he would have been able to turn into an owl and fly over his lands, something that had always soothed him. 

At least, there was something he knew, he thought as he started the engine, he wasn't in love with Sarah. He couldn't be in love. How could he be, since he didn't believe in love. Love was for fools, for people who didn't pay attention, as to fall in love, he would have needed to stumble but he was a King, he wasn't allowed to stumble. If there was anything he had ever learned from his father and time at the Imperial court was this, at the very last, he wasn't, would never be allowed to stumble and so fall. 

That thing with Sarah was probably an infatuation and if his sister had sent him here to confront her, it was because she wanted him to get over it. Nodding to himself, Jareth decided this was the only reasonable solution.

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The water was chilly and pierced her skin like a hundred glaives when Sarah came out of her bath. Drying herself quickly, Sarah engulfed herself in a robe. There was a simple reason why she hadn't came out when she had felt the first touches of the cold: the CD hadn't been over. 

Padding in her living room, slightly trembling with cold, Sarah looked at her kitchen and decided against eating. She wasn't hungry anyway, so she turned around and directly headed to her bedroom, where she put her night clothes on. Then after turning off the lights in the living room, she climbed in her bed and buried herself under the covers. She was tired, the day had been tiring. The only thing she was grateful for was that the summer vacations were near and soon, she'd be able to isolate herself to find out exactly what was going on around her and in her own heart. 

Sighing, Sarah gave a few punches to her pillow and tried to fall asleep but sleep was eluding her. But someone wanted her to sleep, someone else wanted to meet her, someone else, who had an important mission to give Sarah. So, blowing gently on her fingers, the stranger who desperately needed Sarah's help, sent her a gentle sleeping spell, making Sarah fall instantly in a deep slumber. 

Knowingly, the stranger smiled and slipped inside Sarah's dream.

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Hey, guys, hope to see you soon. 

As usual, leave me a little thought in the review box!

A peach-flavour kiss for you all

mikim


	6. Monologues A Ghostly Encounter

Wishes. 

Chapter 5. Monologues. A Ghostly Encounter.

By mikim.

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Standard Disclaimers Apply.

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Sariel sipped slowly on his second whiskey on ice, staring outside. It was pitch black already and still no news from Jareth since he left to take Sarah home, 4 hours earlier. Sariel wasn't worried, Jareth was a big boy who could fend for himself. No, he was concerned for the other one, for Sarah. 

Sariel took another sip of his drink, letting the bitter liquid run like fire on his tongue before swallowing it slowly. He hadn't eaten a thing since the little time he had spent in the kitchen together with Iome, Charlie and Steward. Nothing would pass, nor did he have the envy to eat anything. Hell, he didn't even have the envy to drink that blasted whiskey but he had to do something. Leaning forward, Sariel touched the cool glass with his forehead, his right hand holding his glass, the ice clinking softly against the panel. 

Iome…

She had broken her promise. She had talked to strangers about Millibel. 

Sariel closed his eyes and let her name invade his mind, stir his heart and roll like velvet on his skin. How he had loved her. How blessed he had been to see his love shared. Sariel's brow wrinkled under the familiar pain that clutched his heart suddenly. He should be grateful even for the short time the had been together. He told himself, some don't have even that. Those precious memories of her laughter, of the feel of her skin and the touch of her lips, those murmured promises in the deep of the night, the feverish moans at his ears and sweet caresses to his face. 

But, her eyes, her eyes had always, always been plagued by the bittersweet knowledge of her incoming death. She had known when they confessed their love to each other that she would succumb to her illness, as he had known. They had started, knowing how the story would end. Yet, they had chosen to ignore it, yet he had chosen to give in her wish. Millibel had destroyed him, by leaving him, just as she had given him life by loving him back. 

Assaulted by the souvenirs, Sariel collapsed against the glass, murmuring. "So, why does it still hurt so much?"

Sariel whispered her name a last time in the night, wishing he could be a wolf howling his pain to the moon. 

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Sarah was floating. Content, warm and safe, she snuggled deeper in whatever she was wrapped in. It felt like nothing could touch her, less harm her, leaving her completely safe and sound. Smiling, she went deeper in the warm feeling.

The stranger tilted her head on the side, judging the situation. Founding nothing to say against, she nodded to herself and slipped in after Sarah and reached for her hand.

Sarah felt something tug on her left hand, and curious she turned around, in slow motion. Everything was going in slow motion, she wasn't hot, but she wasn't cold either, she felt relaxed but her senses seemed enhance by wherever she was in. A woman greeted her sight. A woman with long, fair hair and the bluest ice blue Sarah had ever seen. The woman's gaze was so clear that it looked unreal. The stranger was as tall as she was, her long hair flirting with the waistband of her white, long-sleeved dress. Her face was like a porcelain doll's face: her rosy lips and the perfect shape of her chin, the long eyelashes and the high brow. Her skin seemed so smooth, like a baby's. 

Oddly, Sarah wasn't feeling scared at all. This woman radiated with kindness and tenderness, with an edge of sadness, but in all, she felt harmless to Sarah.

"Hello, Sarah," the woman said with her melodic voice, a smile on her thin lips, "my name's Millibel Grace, nice to meet you. I'm Jareth's older sister."

Like the thunder without sound, dread and hurt slipped inside Sarah's conscious and it was all resumed in a word, in a name. His name. Sarah bent over and crouched down, moaning in pain, resting her forehead on her draws knees, her arms against her chest, protectively draped over her heart. She didn't know why, but she knew how, but his name brought pain to her heart. A pain too intense to be real, tears picked her eyes. And something rebuffed. Something deep inside her, like a wild horse roared and kicked, anger loose on her mind swept forward and burned her hands, resting on her pounding heart. 

His name rode wild on the angry wave sweeping inside her. His name was associated with betrayal and hurt, pain and tears, but also with a cruel sweetness, a stolen bittersweet kiss, a harsh caress and feverish hands. The anger died down, leaving only regrets behind. 

Exhausted, Sarah fell down, on her side, drained. Blinking, she raised her eyes to the unmoving stranger above her. Millibel Grace gathered her long white skirt in her hands and sat down next to Sarah's head. Both women stared silently at each other for a few seconds, before Millibel Grace's right hand reached out to smooth Sarah's hair tenderly.

"The fool." She whispered gently, a sad smile lingering on her features. "Too quick at anger, too slow to make amends. Harsh when he should be tender, blind when he should see. I told him several times his temper and quick decisions would get him into troubles. The good spirits are blessed they made him clever and strong enough to be arrogant and able to resist the blows."

Sarah could only stare mutely at this woman so tenderly caressing her hair. To Sarah, her touch felt like a mother's one, tender and radiating with love and calm. 

"Why does his name bring you harm, child?" The woman whispered again.

Sarah didn't know how to speak, the words were frozen inside her throat, the language forgotten, her emotions raw. That was all she knew, emotions, feelings, being able to express her sentiments. 

A twinkle lit up in the woman's gaze. "He has never been able to come here. Do you know why?" Without waiting for an answer, the woman kept on. "Because he has never been able to let go. He has never been shown love and if it has happened, he had cast it away, labelling it 'duty' or 'hypocrisy'. He has never loved another being outside his family and admitted it." The woman's eyes hardened a little, a silent scowl and her back stiffened lightly but her hands never left, nor offered less comfort and warmth. "However, he has come close to it. Only to see the object of his affections rejecting his offer."

Of course, Sarah knew whom she was talking about. About her and her last denial of Jareth's love. But she had been too young. It had actually taken her years to understand, years of gentle probing of her feelings from Hoggle, rather Sariel, Sarah wryly corrected herself in the silent of her mind. Without mentioning, of course, Toby and that blasted peach.

"Ah, Toby, your little brother." Millibel Grace smiled and her eyes softened as she followed Sarah's movements when the latter sat up, her knees drawn behind her, leaning forward on her hands. "He's a big boy now, I believe. He must be around 14, 15 years old." Her eyes turned distant and her perfect features stilled. Then, as if waking up, she shook her white-blond mane and smiled again at Sarah. "Stirring the past isn't why I came here. No, I rather came here for the future, for your future and mostly his future."

Sarah blinked, she didn't understand. 

Millibel Grace's laugh resonated like chimes of dozen little bells. "Of course, you don't understand, dear, you deserve each other, after all and it wouldn't be fair if you were ahead of him. The riddle I offer you both has to be resolved together."

Sarah frowned, wondering what kind of riddle his sister could bring her.

"Not only you." Millibel quickly corrected. "Both of you are in this." 

Sarah rolled her eyes. He wouldn't even see her. A pang of pain touched her heart, like a gong far away in the night, heard but ignored.

"Stubborn till the end. Well I think this is what is going to save you both. And, don't worry, he will be back. He can't stand the way you crawl under his skin. Several times, I've heard him curse you to no end, other times, no less often, I've heard him wish you were his. Even if he doesn't remember the latter as he was almost always drunk when he made such wishes. Or it happened during his illness."

Sarah's back stiffened and her shoulders tensed. Her eyes went wide and her fingers twitched. She had never heard of an illness.

Millibel Grace put her finger on her lips. "This is a secret between you and me." She whispered. "Don't tell him I told you. After you left, he was mad, mad with grief and pain. He refused to eat, he punched in walls tills his hands were broken, his roars made shivers run up my spine and my nights cold and frightening. Several times, I awoke at the sound of one of his cries, making me jerk out of my bed, cold sweat drenching my blouse."

Sarah's heart pounded. That would mean, that would actually mean that Hoggle, well Sariel, had been right all along. That he actually had something for her, that he had feelings…

"Well, of course, we all knew that, dear." Millibel Grace shook her head once more and sighed. "The problem is he won't admit it to himself, he'd rather fight it with all he has than giving in." At Sarah's confused gaze, Millibel Grace sighed again. "Let me start this over, like I should have, let me start where it all started. Would you allow me, Sarah. Would like to know more about him?" 

Sarah didn't hesitate, she was spellbound but all she could do was nod.

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Millibel Grace fell silent, her gaze lost, as she gathered her thoughts. Her voice started slowly and soft, her gaze lost in the veils of the past. "The Underground is ruled by a council, called the council of Rulers. This council is made of all the lords governing the hundreds of lands, under the imperial throne and above this council is the Emperor. Backing the Emperor's power is the caste of the Seers, a neutral group that belongs to no lands and to whom the Emperor swears an oath of protection, while the Seers make an oath of devotion. Anyway, it all really started with my Grand-father." Her lips curled in a soft smile, souvenirs flooding her mind. Millibel Grace remembered her Grandfather, his antics and playful tricks.

"He was a powerful Emperor, but from the Imperial bed only came one child, my mother. My Grandfather was a skirt chaser. He was notorious for it, but he held the Council of Rulers in an iron glove, therefore the Empire blossomed under his care and everybody overlooked his frequent infidelities and their results. I don't think he even knew how many bastards sons he fathered, or how many children, boys and girls he had in the end. Everybody didn't pay attention at first, except one. My Grandfather. He was no fool, he knew he was creating future troubles, he had realized that later his sons would either want the throne for themselves, either a group of Lords would place one of his bastards on the throne to command it like a puppet." Millibel Grace frowned a little. How foolish her grandfather had been. If only he had stayed in his own bed, but then she and Jareth would have never been born. 

"My Grand-father couldn't allow that, therefore he looked for an heir, a powerful heir, to whom he could give the crown. And who better than an heir forged by his own hands to be up to his expectations. This is how he started to shape his only child from the imperial bed into a future ruler, my mother. From the day she turned 8 to the day of the designation of the heir, my Grand-father taught her how to pull strings to choke the council, how to manipulate people into giving her what she wanted, how to talk and on and on. My mother was to be an Empress."

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"A female sovereign. It had already happened before, so my Grandfather wasn't really worrying about it. The Underground did know an Empress, but only when the Emperor died did his wife mount the throne and only because her son was too young to hold the reins of power. My Grandfather overlooked this, thinking that the Seers would back him up, as they always did. Time passed and the day of the designation of a heir was coming closer. My mother was preparing herself, my Grand-father was rubbing his hands in anticipation." Millibel Grace sighed and casually threw a lock of hair over her shoulder.

"Meanwhile, a young Lord took his father's place in the Council of Rulers, my father. He was young and power hungry and clever and ruthless. The other Lords had nicknamed him the Wolf Lord. As the time of designation was coming closer and that the Emperor hadn't shown any signs of a favourite, some of his bastard sons stirred a riot. My father saw troubles coming as his chance." 

In her mind eye, Millibel could see her father. She and Jareth looked more like their mother than their father. He was as tall as Jareth but his hair was as black as the night and so were his eyes. His skin wasn't fair but he always had had a light tan, from his years of going, fighting, playing outside. Her father was broad-shoulder and his sinew body radiating with repressed power and a magic aura. Her father she loved. Jareth was almost the same physically, just that he had fair hair and skin like their mother, otherwise he was just like their father. Her brother she loved.

"In the Underground, there is a common fear that if you kill someone of your family, your bloodline will be cursed and Grand-father was aware of this fear and the impact it could have on the people if he raised his army against his sons. He had to trick some Lords into fighting the rebellion for him but none answered to his call, none but my father and not for free. He made a deal with my Grandfather: he would choke the rebellion and marry my mother to become Emperor. Father, at that time, was the only to realize who the heir was. My Grandfather laughed at this and sent my father on his way. Father had expected such answer and so he turned to the only wall my Grand-father hadn't expected to fail him: the Seers."

Sarah wouldn't know how much the Seers were feared among the people of the Underground, themselves, with magic. The Seers were a caste, a group of mysterious men and women, living together in the Imperial Palace, but only twelve of them were allowed to be seen by others and then they each wore a mask over their features, swords at their hips and long white cloaks covering whatever they could hide on their bodies. 

When the Twelve, as they were called, walked inside a room, it was always together, at the same pace, their chief, recognizable at his more elaborate mask in the centre. The twelve would always walk up to the throne, then the group would split up in two halves, so that their chief was in the middle. Then the head would bow when the others would kneel in front of her father, on his throne. Millibel Grace had never heard any but the chief of the Twelve talk.

"The Seers came to him and told my Grand-father they wouldn't back my mother up if my Grand-father was to place her on the throne. My Grandfather was trapped and in fury, he turned to my father, who had been the one to tell the Seers who the next heir would be. And so the deal was struck. My mother and the throne against the Seers and the death of the rebellion. My father kept his promise and the rebellion was repressed. In blood." 

Millibel repressed a chill. "None of my mother's half-brothers ever raised his head afterwards, too afraid of my father. And so my parents were married, without love, out of duty and opportunity." Millibel Grace paused in her story while Sarah grew weary. She knew there had to be more, more hurt in Millibel Grace's parents lives, which in return have hurt deeply Millibel Grace and her brother.

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"My mother who had thought almost all her life she would be an Empress hated my father with passion. Besides, his reputation of being quite of a womaniser himself didn't help him getting into her good graces. The first two years of their marriage were quite agitated but they ruled together over the Council of Rulers as one, which can be perceived quite ironically, since they didn't agree on anything privately till the colours of the walls to whom to employ but as the Imperial Couple, they were one." 

A secret smile crept on Millibel Grace's lips.  "Mother has never been a woman who kept her mouth shut and Father has a quick temper. I don't know exactly how or why, but finally love and care finally blossomed between them and I was born. It went on for some times, they were happy together, they had a baby, everything was fine, the people was happy and my Grandfather was finally proud of his son-in-law as Emperor. Until she came."

"Her name is Pasha and she was one of my father's mistress before he got wed. Something to his account, after the wedding he never cheated on my mother, even when they were at odds. But Lady Pasha. Mother was still feeling uncertain about her body as she had just given me birth and so when Lady Pasha and her slender body and devious beauty came, Mother felt threatened, knowing my Father and Lady Pasha's history. She grew agitated and frequently would either make impossible demands from Father or plainly accused him of cheating on her with Lady Pasha. Finally Father, fed up, said something too much and war broke loose. Mother and him wouldn't speak to each other for days." 

"Finally Mother made amends and recognized how foolish she had been and so she and Father went back to their happy state together. Mother was extremely close to my Grandfather and when he died, she fell into depression. Father was overloaded with work as our neighbour, the Kingdom of Rasmale, was in a civil war. All this made that Father paid little attention at Mother but they still had their tradition: a walk every Sunday, just the three of us and slowly Mother crawled out of her depression."

"Too coincidently to be true, a young man, Lord Ruben, whom bore a passionate love for my mother came back and started to court her again. Mother never gave in his advances, but Father saw it from another eye. During this period, Mother found out she was pregnant again. There was a wild rumour saying the child actually was Lord Ruben's and not my father's. Father doubted and Mother was deeply hurt by his doubts and, of course, they fought again. I've always thought that such rumour could only been born between Lady Pasha's sheets. I don't know for sure, but I've always thought she was an evil woman." Millibel Grace's voice hardened and Sarah had no doubt Millibel Grace had tried her best to confound this woman as responsible of her family's rifts.

"To arrange nothing, when Mother's body started to change to accommodate their new child, Lady Pasha paraded in all her glory at every imperial party, showing off her perfect body and the number of her lovers reached a new high. I think Lady Pasha always regretted the way things had ended between her and Father. I know Father broke up with her before he got wed, but I think Lady Pasha had believed, and strongly, for quite some time, that Father would make her his mistress and let her have more power than my Mother."

"Anyway, Father and Mother got back together for the baby and for me but things were still strained between them and one night, Mother, who was two months from her due date, woke up alone in her bed. Dread quickly made its way to her heart and she went, in the middle of the night, to Lady Pasha's rooms. She found my Father there. He wasn't in the bed with her, but it didn't matter to my mother and she exploded in tears. The shock had too much for her and it provoked an early labour. This is how my little brother came to this world."

"Mother never forgave Father, nor did Father ever forgave her for the so-called affair between her and Lord Ruben. Lord Ruben looked a lot like Mother, white-blond hair and piercing eyes, therefore when Jareth was born, the rumour was enhanced. And when he opened his eyes for the first time and that everybody saw his mismatched eyes, they all believed the rumour to be true. You may not know it but mismatched eyes are the sign of the devil in the Underground." 

Sarah's eyes clouded with pain and sorrow and she almost felt the painful grip he earlier had on her arms, his face inches from hers, his eyes, his beautiful eyes glowing with fury as he told her very little of his childhood, as he told her his pain.

"Whenever Mother would gaze down at Jareth, she would remember that night where she found Father in another's room, while Father would only see in Jareth was Lord Ruben. Can you imagine?" Millibel Grace's face fell and her voice took an emotional turn, weighted with a silent pain and helplessness, her tone quickened and her eyebrows came together forming a frown. "Added to this, all the political games, all the struggles for power from the young Lords and on and on. The Court, a nest of snakes and rats, the fake smiles and scared looks at his mismatched eyes. Can you imagine? I can't." Her shoulders slumped, like the weight on her shoulders suddenly increased. "Because I was loved and knew it, while Jareth has never been sure of the existence of that love." 

Millibel Grace bent her head, till her bangs covered her eyes. An image flashed quickly in Sarah's mind: a white-blond angel, her white wings opened behind her, as she was about to take her fly, but the shackles on her wrists were holding her down. 

Millibel Grace started again in a small voice, her head still bent. "You, who teach to the young, can you phantom what went through his head at that time? How unloved he had felt." She raised her head and the hardness of her eyes surprised Sarah. 

"I ask you my riddle, now, Sarah, can birds in a cage, fly away again, one day, if freed?"

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Sarah opened her eyes slowly, the ringing of her clock blaring in her ears. She wasn't tired but she wasn't rested either. Sarah sat up in her bed, perfectly awake, and drawing her knees under her chin, she wrapped her arms around them. Unmoving, she thought. She thought of what she had dreamt, she remembered every word, which had been said. 

His sister had visited her during the night. His dead sister. 

Goosebumps ran up quickly her spine and Sarah threw her covers away, getting out of her bed. Walking next to it, Sarah slammed the clock off, without even thinking about it. She needed a coffee, right now, a strong coffee. A ghost had come to her during the night. 

Agitated, Sarah couldn't stop her fingers from shaking and the dead silence of her apartment didn't help either. Not knowing exactly why, Sarah quickly turned on her television and even the radio, she needed noise, she needed to pretend she wasn't alone. Sarah turned her shaking knees towards the kitchen. She needed that blasted coffee. 

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Taking a deep breath, Sarah opened her eyes again. And for the fourth times, tried to get the coffee spoon inside the machine and not around it. But her shaky fingers only allowed half of it to get inside the machine. 

Finally, Sarah got the machine on and the water started to heat. Sarah turned to her clock to check up the time: she still had an hour and a half before school started. 

Her gaze fell on her kitchen table and a shriek escaped her lips.

On the table, on a white paper, a graceful hand had traced a small question. "Can birds in a cage fly away if freed?"

It wasn't a dream, it really wasn't a dream. His sister had truly visited her last night. Sarah approached the table, extending her hand towards the paper. She took it and observed the question in its middle.

Sarah sat heavily on the chair, her heart pounding in her ears. So it was true, she thought, all the talk. He didn't believe in love. He refused to admit it. Sarah almost laughed. She had wished she had the chance to understand his riddle, well now she had it.

Thinking back on the conversation Millibel Grace and she had, Sarah pondered on what she could do. She didn't really understand what Millibel Grace wanted from her, but it was obvious she needed to do something for him, what was the question. Sarah watched, transfixed, the black liquid fall drop by drop. What did Millibel Grace want. 

Sighing, Sarah threw the paper back on the table and stared at the words. I wonder why I couldn't talk. Sarah suddenly thought. 

The words seemed to emerge from the paper, like they had been floating under the surface, just waiting for her to make them float. In the same graceful writing, a single sentence appeared under the first.  "Dead people and the ones living aren't supposed to talk to each other." It read. 

Sarah shrieked again, jumped three feet away from the table and blinked. She rubbed her face several times, checking each times between her fingers if she had been hallucinating, but no, the words were still there waiting. 

Finally, Sarah yelled, panicked. "What the hell!"

The words shimmered and Sarah watched over words come to replace them. "We know each other now, and technically speaking, we aren't talking. We're corresponding. Don't worry, it can't harm you." The answer said.

Sarah swallowed hard and wide eyes, walked around the table, surveying the paper, asking in a pitch voice. "How is it possible?"

"Sarah, calm down." The words read. Sarah's breathing quickened. 

"How do you want me to calm down! I'm talking to a paper!"

"Write down your answers." The words said. 

Blinking again, Sarah waited, but as nothing happened, she reached a pen and write down. 

"How is this all possible?"

"Somebody owed me up there." Came the swift reply.

Sarah sat stunned and finally rolled her eyes. "Just like him." She wrote. She was relaxing. 

"Hey! We're brother and sister." The reply brought a smile to her lips. Her pen wavered. There was something she wanted to know, she had always wanted to know, but didn't know if she could ask.

"Can I ask you a question? About where you are, right now?" She pressed.

The answer took a few seconds before coming. "You mean about the place where the dead go?"

"Yes." Sarah's reply was firm.

"Go ahead, it never hurts to ask."

"What is it where you are?"

Millibel Grace's answer took again a few seconds before coming. "You mean what is here?"

"Yes." Sarah wrote again.

"We call it Paradise, but only because when we were alive that was how we called it." Millibel Grace explained.

"And what are there in Paradise?" Sarah pressed on. Curiosity picked, Sarah wanted to know.

"There is only one thing here."

"What?" 

"Future."

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A weird chapter, don't you think?

Anyway, I hope it's pleased you all (drop the gun, dearest, I can't write otherwise!!!)

As usual leave a little message in the box, please!

See you all

A hundred of peach-flavoured kisses for each of you!

Mikim


	7. A Ghostly Encounter Second Round

Wishes.

Chapter 6. A Ghostly Encounter. Second Round.

By mikim

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Standard Disclaimers Apply.

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A small leather book tucked neatly under the arm, Sarah strolled smiling in her class. Quickly, she laid her bags on her desk, her leather book next to them,  and turned around to clean the chalkboard, preparing it for the lesson of the day. Sarah had purposely arrived right on time to avoid going in the professors' room. She just didn't feel like meeting her colleagues' eyes or their remarks. Sarah was the youngest teacher at the St Sebastian Private Elementary School, a reputed private school, famed for the level of education displayed in their spacious and luminous building. 

The son of the creator of the school, Mark Jones, directed the school for more than seven years now. He was a bit older than Sarah and had been the one who had seek her to work at St Sebastian. He was a charming man, with dark brown hair and a roguish smile, which usually won him over any arguments he took part in. 

Sarah's class was composed of the smaller children of the whole school and she loved each of them dearly. The current bunch was composed of mischievous little devils, but they were all very clever and precious to her. She preciously kept each of their photos she had asked at the beginning of the year in a big black book and under each one, she had written their names, birthdays and the year they had spent in her care. 

Probably because she was the youngest of the teacher staff, maybe because she took care of the smaller ones, but all the other teachers treated her like a precious doll, teasing her gently on her lack of boyfriends, pushing her gently with their "get married and settle down" speech so many times rehearsed for her benefit. They were all kind and their intentions were well meant but sometimes, they weighed heavily on Sarah's shoulders. The teachers were in general coming from other prestigious schools, from where either Mark or his father had managed to steal them away. 

The old Mr. Jones frequently came to the school to pester his son, but also because he had founded this school after a wish of his wife, who had died several years ago. Sarah liked Mr. Jones a lot and she had spotted him several times, wandering slowly in the halls of the school, lost in his memories of his beloved wife. He was a funny old man, with a wry humor and his once dark hair were now all white while his beard always smelled like the rose-scented tobacco he swore not to use. 

He shared the roguish smile with his son and was the only one who wasn't eagerly waiting for a suitor at her arm. He liked to call her girlie and to come to her class to sit at the back, while she told stories to her little students. Sometimes, he would even drift to sleep in her class and the children would grin at each others silently letting "Grand-Pa Jones" sleep while Sarah would cover him with a light cover usually used by the children.

Noise was drifting in the classroom, decorated with childish yellow suns and laughing oaks trees and the bell rung. Sarah turned around, as the first grinning child, a sunny little girl, stepped in the room, quickly followed by her classmates, shouting theirs greetings to their teachers.

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            Naptime was like a blessing for Sarah. On Mondays, her little students tended to be agitated and excited from the weekend's activities and made her run for her money. Between little Melissa who got her long black hair full of pink paint and Jack who kicked Alexander because the latter said the former had lice, Sarah had wanted to pull her hair. Then, when Joan had screamed bloody murder because Ann had knocked her lunch on her lap when John fell on her when he tripped on Emily's doll, Sarah had wondered why she still hadn't given her resignation letter. But, then, when sweet little Louis, with his baby blue eyes and jet black hair, a future lady killer, had given her a drawing of her, her heart had burst in joy and she had known why she hadn't given that resignation letter, sitting in the secret drawer of her desk, at home.

            As usual, she had made them sit on their mats, after pushing the tables on the left corner of the class and cleaning their mess from lunchtime. Waiting for them to settle down, Sarah chose mentally a story to tell them. The tale of the Prince and the Crow unfolded in her mind and she started softly, attracting immediately their attentions.

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            Finally, the last of the children was fast asleep. Alexander was always the last to fall asleep, insisting like he was for her to finish the story, fighting with all his might sleep to conquer him over until she had said end. Silent like a cat, Sarah stood up and quietly made her way towards her desk where she sat, barely restraining a satisfied sigh. Rolling her aching shoulders, she opened the small leather book she had placed on the top left corner of her desk. Picking up a pen, she waited. 

Quickly, the first message came. _Is your day over?_ It read. Millibel had told her to take a small copybook with her. She had then spelled the book so that the two of them could talk. 

Smiling, Sarah's answer came swiftly. _I wish._ She wrote. _This is only a pause. The little monsters are all fast asleep._ Millibel had written this morning, when giving her instructions that she would linked herself to the book, therefore it was imperative for Sarah to never let Jareth or somebody with the gift of magic touch it, otherwise, they would felt her presence. Moreover, if Sarah were ever to go back to the Underground with the copybook on her, whether or not with Jareth, Millibel would have to leave the book and would never be able to come back, not even to contact her in dreams. Millibel's first message disappeared to let the place to her new question.  _How is the weather?_ Millibel asked. 

She had already several times asked such questions, like how her coffee tasted, or how the water on her skin felt like. It had surprised Sarah and Millibel had confessed that she was more and more losing the physical memories she had from her body. She still had her memories, but she had lost the sense of touch. 

Sarah looked up to the windows: the sun had disappeared sometimes during the day and heavy black clouds were looming menacingly over the school and town. On the horizon, Sarah could even see the rain falling. It had always been like a formidable wonder to watch the rain fall on the sea: like a falling curtain, ephemeral and unreal, so far away and yet so close. The sea going back to the sea, a perfect circle. Looking back at the paper, Sarah wrote back. _Bad. It looks like it's going to rain and I think we're even going to have thunder and lightning._

Millibel's previous words came over Sarah's last remark, as if Sarah's words had been drunk by the paper to let the place to Millibel's ones. _Ah._ Millibel's words said. _Jareth used to love this kind of weather, because he would be allowed to play piano for hours, without being disturbed._ Curiosity roused, Sarah couldn't stop her pen from tracing the question. _How was he like when he was small?_ Sarah waited a few minutes, before Millibel's answer appeared on the paper. 

Her answer took most of the page and the strokes of her words had taken a melancholic turn, by the swirls at the end of each words, Sarah knew Millibel was reminiscing. _I remember once when he disappeared for a whole day. He was about the age of your students. _So, Sarah thought a fond smile coming to her lips against her will, between 5 and 6 years old. Already a troublemaker._ The castle was in an uproar, maids and guards running crazy, looking under every table, checking each hall twice at least. I was here, at my boarding school, when Sariel burst in my classroom, looking wild, calling for Jareth. He had thought that maybe Jareth had managed to teleport himself to Aboveground, as it had been the theme of their lesson, that day. _

_I remember his crazy look, the poor man… Sometimes I think we place his doom between his hands when we shove Jareth in them. Anyway, Sariel's sudden appearance and the news of Jareth disappearing turned me half hysteric and I went back Underground with Sariel. I went straight to my father's office to demand of him to find Jareth, but Father refused to even let me in. _

_Angry, I stomped the palace's halls, calling Jareth's name, but he never answered. The little devil didn't reappear until dinnertime because he was hungry. I was so mad at him that I shook him several times, screaming, until Sariel managed to detangle him from my clutches… Jareth said he had found something interesting when he had been practicing what Sariel had taught him the day before. Sariel had taught him how to feel something with his mind, one of the basics lessons in mastering the gift of magic. _

_He had found the palace secret passages… Sariel was thunderstruck, so was I… You see, these secret passages are protected by shields and in theory only the Emperor has enough magic to feel them and lift them to wander in the secret passages. And Jareth did it. He told us he had found them all. I can still see him, his little face raised up to mine his little fists on his waist, in the same manner of his arms teacher, his mismatched eyes twinkling, his royal blue jacket covered with spiders webs and his white shirt covered of dirt, but he was happy and had a smug smile on his lips. A little devil, he was… He took the habit to disappear from times to times, running Sariel crazy each times but always coming back at the later around dinnertime, but it didn't always have the same happy outcome. _

The writing stopped here and Sarah waited. The story obviously wasn't over and she frowned. Then, the first lines of the message disappeared and little by little let the place to the beginning of another one. 

_Once, when I got home, I discovered him, sitting in a dark corner of my room, his knees drawn under his chin, his little arms closed around them, frowning. When I asked him what was wrong, he answered, using for the first time, his Illusion King voice. You know, that voice so cold that it can pierce your heart better than a spear would. He looked up at me,_ _glaring, and stood up, as if I had betrayed him and he asked me if I knew. I was lost and completely uncomfortable by his sudden transformation. _

_He repeated his question and I told him I didn't understand what he meant. This was the first time Jareth really cried. He cried, not out of pain, as he did when he broke his arm, but out of emotional pain, because of something eating him from inside. I didn't understand and tried to reach him and he coldly kept me at bay with one look and with a freezing voice he told me he knew what his name meant. He told me he understood why the maids were so scared of him, when calling him Master Bane. _

_He ran out of my room, leaving me rooted to my spot. I think it also was the first of his illusions taken brutally away from him. Later, I found out he had been, as usual, wandering in his secret passages he had always refused to share, and he had stumbled upon a conversation between 2 people in the palace library. From behind his wall, Jareth couldn't see who it was, but he could hear them. Apparently, it was 2 ladies in court of my mother and they were talking about him and Jareth learnt in which circumstances his birth took place and what his name meant._

Sarah looked sadly at the words. Master Bane. That seemed to be how everybody referred to him in the palace. A cast away, an unwanted. A shock for a child so young to learn by someone else what the name his mother had given him meant. Sarah's pen fell from her fingers as she looked up to the windows. Thunder was roaring and lightning were fighting in the dark skies. Soon, rain would fall and wash the ground away. A shimmering glitter caught her left eye and curious, Sarah looked down at the leather book. 

_Sarah._ The message started. _Don't let it get you. Jareth's been over this for years now. He had suffered much, much more severe blows than this one._

Sadly, Sarah considered Millibel's words and she wondered if Jareth's older sister was putting her refusal of Jareth's last offer within the bags of these 'severe blows', as she put it. Sarah picked up her pen once more. _Why didn't your father help find Jareth the first time?_

Millibel seemed to ponder on that question, as her answer took some time to come to Sarah. _I really don't know. I was mad at him for days afterward, until he gave me an asphodel and I forgave him._

_What is an asphodel?_ Sarah wrote.

_It's a flower. In the language of flower, it means that the one giving the flower regret what happened in the past. My father knows the language of flower and he used to teach me what flower meant what and how to give them. Whenever, Father, Mother and I would go out, before Jareth was born, on our Sunday's outing, Father would always give mother a flower, but he'd never actually told her these flowers he had given her had a meaning and what exactly they meant. I remember once, we were sitting under a big oak tree, I was on Mother's lap, when Father conjured a red camellia and tucked it behind her ear. Mother laughed, but kept the flower the whole day in her hair. Later, Father told me a camellia meant the constancy or something among the lines I would love you always. _

_Oh, that sounds sweet. _

_It is. Father never speaks of his emotions, or shows them. Only through his flowers and he rarely gives one to anyone. I think he gave Mother the most of them, even when they were at odds, he gave her a flower. Usually, it was placed on her nightstand for her to find it in the morning or near her mirror._ Sarah frowned. Millibel had told her the day before her parents were at odds and still her father gave her mother flowers. How weird. Sarah looked up to make sure each of her little students were fine, as the rain finally broke over. 

Thunder roared once more but none of the children even stirred, so deeply asleep. Sarah smiled and stood up to walk to little Jack Rubinfield, as he turned around, knocking the light cover away. Sarah knelt carefully next to him, not to wake him up and  she carefully tucked him in. Still kneeling, she let her gaze sweep over the rest of the children, but in her mind she tried to picture a small boy, much like at the same height of little Jack, with fair hair and mismatched eyes, she tried to see him, she wanted to understand what Jareth's childhood could have been like. 

When Millibel had told her the story of Jareth's disappearance, she had never mentioned even once her mother. When her son had been found missing, Jareth's mother didn't apparently moved. Like his father. Sarah's eyes fell back on Jack, sleeping his mouth open and reaching out, she lightly caressed his cheek and stood up. She couldn't imagine. Sarah walked back to her desk and went back to the leather book where Millibel waited. _Millibel, could you tell me more about where you were born?_

The answer came quickly, written hastily, surprised. _You want to know the Underground History?_

Yes.

_Very well._ Millibel paused, probably gathering her thoughts. _Well, the Underground is also called the Ten plus One Kingdoms because one of them is hidden to the rest of the kingdoms, Jareth's kingdom, the Illusion Isle. Anyway, our father's empire was at the origins dozens of small countries reunited into one to face our powerful neighbors. Because it was done to face a common enemy, alliance in our empire is quite tedious and straining, therefore it wasn't rare to see an emperor overthrown. Until the Seers stepped in._ Sarah remembered Millibel mentioning the Seers backing up her father against her grandfather, at the surprise of the latter. Millibel had looked uncomfortable talking about them.

_The Seers are a sect, a group of mysterious persons. They don't necessarily come from our Empire but from all the Kingdoms. The legend says they came to the first Emperor of our lineage and told him he was to be an emperor and that they would support him. He didn't believe them at first, but the Seers knew he wouldn't. So, one of them, a female, stepped forward and said she would show him the future. She shared her vision with him and afterwards he had to believe the Seers because the woman's body fell dead at his feet. _

_A non-Seer can only have the experience of a vision if the Seer giving the vision gives up his life. This is the curse of the Seers. Anyway, my ancestor believed them then and he declared war to the Emperor of the time. His name was Spike, because he was tall but his body was sinew and his tongue was sharp like a spike and he climbed on the throne. _

_What about Jareth's kingdom?_ Sarah interjected. 

_The Illusion Isle is said to be in the Sea of Clouds but no one ever found was that meant as this ocean isn't on any map of the Underground. Anyone but Jareth found it since the creation of this Kingdom. You see, the Illusion Isle was created to protect the gifted ones. There was a time, in the Underground, when magic was recoiling, slowly disappearing fro m bloodlines and ungifted people started to fear the gifted ones and even persecute them. A group of wizards and witches decided to protect those who couldn't protect themselves by building them a fortress where no one could find them: the Illusion Isle. It was, at first, a simple island, at the large of Radanah, one of the major kingdoms. _

_Gifted ones fled to this kingdom to leave their children, hoping they would be safe and the wizards cast the spells which turned this island into something else, something magic and it purely disappeared but they left a key to find the Illusion Isle under the form of a text, craved on a marble pillar. It says that only those with a brave and pure heart would find the Sea of Clouds on which the Illusion Isle sails for eternity and only if he braves the hundred of hardships waiting on the ground of the fortress, would the seeker reach and master the power sleeping in the Illusion Isle. Hundreds of men tried to find the Sea of Clouds and lost their lives trying, until Jareth. _

Sarah was stunned. How had Jareth found such place. Sariel had said it had taken him a whole year. _How did he find it?_

_I really don't know, he never talked about it. Maybe he can't. _

Sarah was about to ask Millibel what she meant when her clock rang and Sarah quickly snapped it shut. It was time for her to rouse the little ones. Frustrated, Sarah wrote quickly in the leather book she had to go back to work and she closed the book without waiting for Millibel's answer. 

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Sarah waved her goodbye to the last child finally leaving her class. She was exhausted and she still had to clean the classroom. Paintbrushes were scattered on the left tables, while one of the kids, probably Joan, had forgotten his or hers pencils. Sighing, Sarah straightened the chairs on her way to the left tables and gathered the paintbrushes. She was about to wash them, when a light rasping noise caught her attention. Turning to face the open doorframe, Sarah found the light smile of the school director, Mark Jones.

"Hey, you." Mark walked in the class and straightened the chairs around him, pushing them back under the tables. 

"Hello, Mark." Sarah smiled and turned back to rinse the brushes. 

"We missed you at lunch." Mark said casually and Sarah winced inwardly.

"Yeah, I stayed here with the kids." 

Mark nodded and picked up the forgotten pencils. Silence lingered between them, only leaving the sound of rain and thunder, until Mark sighed heavily, making Sarah to turn to face him, and said. "Sarah, I bet you know why I'm here."

Sarah sighed too and leaned on a nearby table. "About what happened on Saturday."

"Rather Sunday morning from what I've seen." Mark smiled sadly as he sat on the table.

Sarah shot him a look but refused to hold his gaze any longer. "Sarah, Mark said again, I'm not blaming you but..." Sarah squeezed her eyes shut. That was what she had tried her mightiest to avoid, but Mark had found her instead. "You need to be more careful, Sarah. We can't afford to hurt the school's reputation."  

Sarah bit her lower lip to prevent herself from screaming. She was going to be fired! "Anyway, I had parents calling me all day to demand you to be fired for misbehavior…" Sarah's hopes were crushed. The tiniest instant, she had hoped Mark had told them to mind their own businesses but he had probably complied to their wishes. This was a private school after all, not a public one, she was to be fired. "And I told them no." Sarah's head snapped up and she stared at him, as if he had grown a second head, in the space of a second. 

"But, Mark I…"

Mark cut her. "This isn't the school business, but I would have preferred you to be a little more discreet, Sarah." Sarah blinked and at his roguish smile, she blushed. Then a shaky laugh left her and she put her hand on her face, relieved. Mark laughed lightly and walked to her. He enveloped her in a crushing hug and laughed again. "I'm so happy for you, Sarah! I really hope this one is the one for you!" Mark withdrawn and smiled at her again, winking. "My dad wishes you the best happiness too, but he had been grumpy since Sunday because you hadn't told him you had a boyfriend. He annoyed everyone home Sunday, me first." Sarah laughed then. 

Mark was one of her dearest friend. When she had first come here, she had felt so out of place, but Mark had helped her to feel part of the family school, as he liked to say. He had even helped her when she had needed someone the most. Sarah returned the hug.

"Oh, Mark. Thank you, I was so…" Sarah couldn't find the words. "I couldn't face everybody." She confessed in a low voice, getting out of his embrace.

Mark reached for her hands and squeezed them gently. "I know, that's why I'm the only one here. The others wanted to come to comfort you and tell you we all do front with you. The parents can't dictate our private lives, even if they are your customers and to be treated with respect, until this doesn't affect your teaching, I don't see any reasons to fire a so talented teacher." He winked at her again and looked around. "As a punishment for avoiding us, you are of duty of cleaning this room." He said, smiling lightly and Sarah laughed again. As if, she didn't clean this room every day when the kids would leave. Mark waved and went you, leaving her alone, lighthearted and smiling. Sarah turned back to washing the brushes from the paint when a cold voice broke through. 

Outside, the rain poured harder. 

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Jareth grumbled under the cold rain. He had gotten home early this morning, after driving all night and calming his mind but Sariel was waiting for him. After a mere stern look, Sariel had forced a promise out of Jareth to go see Sarah and apologize for the possible problems their encounter could arouse. And so Jareth was waiting. When the bell had rung and the kids poured out of the school gates to run in their parents' cars, Jareth had stepped out of his, without an umbrella, as he didn't have one in his car. 

He had put a light blue baseball cap on, to hide his face but had to give up sunglasses, as they would have been suspicious with this kind of weather. His white shirt was drenched and clinging to his skin, his jeans were drenched to, but the rain was warm and it almost felt relaxing to be under the pouring rain. As the gates cleared of the children, Jareth walked in, his gaze sweeping over each window, hoping to find Sarah's classroom, without to have to ask somebody who may recognize him. On the far left of the red bricks building, he caught the sight of a woman with long black hair. Smirking to himself, Jareth walked inside the building. 

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From what he had seen outside, Jareth had reasoned that Sarah's class should be the next one on his right, but as he came closer, voices drifted towards him and he caught Sarah's name. Silently, Jareth neared the door and took a peek inside. Sarah was hugging a man, smiling and laughing. The world went black, fury roared at his ears and his blood screamed for vengeance. For a moment, Jareth considered walking in and surprising them both, in each others arms, but Jareth realized the man didn't matter. He didn't care who the man was, no, only her mattered. Backing away, Jareth noticed an open door on an empty classroom. He walked in it and waited for the man to leave Sarah. 

He was the only allowed to hurt her, no one played on his territories and Sarah would learnt it.

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Sarah froze and her fingers stilled. The brushes fell from her fingers and clattered on the sink, the water still running. Turning around, Sarah saw him. Jareth had his arms crossed over his broad chest, drenched to the bones, water dripping from his clothes on the ground, but he didn't seem to mind. The fury in his eyes frightened Sarah. "Hello, Sarah." Jareth repeated as he pushed himself off the wall to come closer, looking like a hawk falling on his prey. He circled her almost, looking her up and down. Sarah shivered under his gaze and despite the light brown pants and the white tank top, she felt very naked under Jareth's eyes. 

Sarah's back stiffened and she squared her little shoulders, compared to his. "I only came to tell you that us being intimate had a mistake." Like a punch in the stomach, Sarah stared up at him. "But I don't regret it." He said softly. 

Her tongue was frozen, too heavy for her to move, her lips were sealed, only her eyes seemed to answer her brains' orders as she followed him with her eyes. "What I regret however, he kept on, is the unfortunate consequences coming from that stolen photo. But what is done is done and we can't come back to it." Sarah blinked. Jareth had apologized. 

Without really saying the words, he had actually apologized. Sarah stared at him for a minute. So why was fury still lurking in his eyes? Tears picked her eyes, hadn't he come to make amends for his behavior the day before? Sarah had feared their meeting, after the way he had left her but she would have never thought he would have come to her workplace, completely drenched. Why was he livid? 

"Also, he said again, I have decided to cut any ties with you." This said, Jareth stepped back of two steps and waited, his eyes turning cold ice. 

Sarah blinked. "What?" She couldn't believe her ears. He was the one who had came to her! She hadn't asked anything. By the way he was looking at her, the way he talked and behaved, she felt like it was her fault this was a real mess! Anger crept in. How dared he? He was as at fault as she was, but she at least, wasn't trying to take the coward's way out. She was willing to stay and fight, she was willing to give it a last chance, she wanted to give it a last chance. After all, Millibel had said he had feelings for her…

And it struck better than a lightning would have. It came to her, like a revelation, from the depths of her heart, it came suddenly, like a flower opening when the first rays of the sun touches it. She didn't want to lose him. She refused him to push her aside. He had done everything she had asked of him, he had come back to her, only to see her push him away again. She didn't know if she loved him already but she didn't want to let go and he wanted to leave. 

But she wouldn't beg. She would fight. An angry flame, matching the one in his eyes, started to burn in her and her lips thinned to a tight line and she mocked him. "Oh? Taking the coward's way out, your Highness? Can't stand the way a woman gets into you?" Sarah leaned forward, her hands on her hips. "What is it, Jareth? Afraid I would beat you at this game too?" Sarah's heart started to beat louder as Jareth's face darkened. "Because, as I see it, your Highness, you're only running away your tail between your legs!" Sarah's voice raised and she almost yelled on the top of her lungs. "You're the one who started all this and you still want to blame me? Who's the child here, Jareth! You said I rejected the fault of wishing Toby away on you. But you're rejecting the blame on me for this one!"

Jareth towered over her, his gaze blazing. "Coward's way out, Sarah?" He growled. "But what would that concern you? Because, from my point of view, you didn't lose anytime to replace me in your bed!" Sarah stilled, her eyes huge. At first, she didn't understand what he was talking about and only started at him. Then, she remembered Mark's arms around her and her face went red. 

"How dare you?" She yelled. "You have no right!" She made a wide gesture in his direction, with her right arm, but when her wrist was near him, he grabbed it and squeezed it almost painfully.

"This quick, Sarah dear," he growled in her ear, stepping closer, "should be put in a record book. Or maybe he doesn't know I had my way with you…" Angry, Sarah torn her arm away from his grasp. 

"You have no right to judge me!" She screamed. "And Mark isn't…"

Jareth cut her again, taking her arm again in his vice-like hand. "Because it has a name!" He roared.

Sarah shook his hold off her. "Who do you think you are?" She screamed. "First, you give me the cold shoulder and then you bounce back at my workplace and…"

Jareth tried to yell louder than her, not even listening to what she was saying. "I saw you and…"

A powerful voice bellowed from the door, making Sarah and Jareth turn around. "What's going on here?" Mark asked, stepping inside the class. He had his briefcase in one hand, an umbrella in the other, obviously on his way to leave the school. Mark's wife, Leigh, was standing next to him.

"For Pete's sake, Sarah, are you alright?" Leigh asked, her sweet voice dripping with surprise, mixed with a little fear. Leigh was a chocolate-haired beauty, with blue eyes and a gentle soul. She worked as Mark's secretary, but under her sweet layer, Sarah knew she had a will as strong as iron. Leigh turned her eyes on Jareth, taking in his wet clothes and rigid shoulders, then in Sarah's red cheeks and his grip on her arm she hadn't managed to shake. 

Sarah quickly waved her free hand in front of her. "Leigh, it's okay, it's nothing I…"

Jareth suddenly released her, cold as ice. "That's right, there's nothing."

Sarah whirled around and her anger blared up once more. "Jareth! You stubborn, insufferable man! I…"

Jareth smirked. "Losing your wits, Sarah, you already gave me that one."

"Damn it!" Sarah stomped the ground, frustrated. "I…"

Jareth's voice rose once more. "No more, I have enough. I came because Sariel forced me to, otherwise, I wouldn't have bothered!"

Sarah snapped. He was so stubborn! With the heart of a stone! "I hate you!" She screamed, trying to punch him in the stomach.

Jareth caught her fist in his hand and raised an eyebrow. "Really?" He drawled.

Flustered, Sarah knew she hadn't meant that. But, she couldn't tell him either. He would smirk and send it back in her face and then leave. "I… I mean…" She spluttered. 

Jareth leaned forward. "You hate me, Sarah?"

Sarah jerked her hand away, raising her eyes to meet his. "What does it matter to you, anyway? You're leaving!" She accused him.

Jareth caught her chin between his fingers and with his right hand brought her closer. "Hate me, then." He whispered. And he kissed her. 

A weird kiss, so different from the others, sweet almost, mixed with rain and warmth. It surprised her by its gentleness. Something was missing, not lacking, just absent. Sarah couldn't move, she let him kiss her, she let him press his cold lips to her warm ones, let his warm up, she let his wet arms sneak around her waist and pull her against his drenched form, watering her clothes, she let him steal her warmth as she raised her arms to close them around his neck. 

He needed something but he didn't know what. He knew she had it, but didn't know how to ask, where to look. She had broken him and shaped him, that she understood in this out-of-time moment. The world ceased to move and yet he held her against him, his form over her smaller one, protecting hers from whatever he thought was coming. He was giving her something he didn't want to let go, but unable to stop her from taking it or to stop himself from giving it. In this instant, she understood his confusion, his entrance in an unknown territory. 

For once, he wasn't the master of the labyrinth, the labyrinth was. 

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Mark smiled. From what he and Leigh had heard, Sarah's boyfriend had seen them hugging and had had a moment of jealousy but as he saw them kiss, Mark guessed that everything was right, once more. He turned to his wife, his hand holding the umbrella going to the little of her back, gently leading her away. Looking over his shoulder once more, he whispered to his wife. "I guess it settles everything."

Leigh raised at eyebrow at him and looked at him quizzically. "Because you really believe a kiss can erase everything?"

Mark shrugged. "It works with me."

Leigh caressed his cheek lightly. "That's because you're cheap." She smiled and he rolled his eyes heavenly.

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Jareth lightly broke the kiss and he rested his forehead against hers. Sarah didn't move, she didn't want to break the mood. Something had changed, a realization, a glorious defeat, a sorrowful winning. He had changed in the space of a heartbeat. Again, when he raised his eyes to meet hers, she saw another mask on his features and it scared her, just like it excited her, made her heart beat faster, wondering if maybe she had managed to break through another of his layers, deadly traps he had so carefully placed on the way to his heart. Something during their argument had changed. Or maybe she had changed. 

Sarah smiled lightly. "You're jealous." She whispered, her fingers tightened on his shoulders. Time to break the dream.

He tried to step away, but her fingers still held him. "So what?" He asked, his dead trying to be indifferent. His hands were still on her waist. His fingers dug in her flesh. "No one but me has the right to hurt you!" He whispered urgently.

Sarah squirmed. He was hurting her. "Jareth! You're hurting me!"

"No one but me." He said with finality before decreasing the force of his hold on her. 

Sarah blinked. He hadn't released her, her arms were still around his neck. "Jareth…" She whispered. Shaking her head, she stepped out of his arms. "You're drenched." She looked at him from head to toe and back and reached out to take one of his big hands in hers. "Come on, my place is real near, we have to get you dry or you'll be sick." She tugged on his hand, towards her desk.

But Jareth didn't move. "Why would I follow you?"

Sarah turned back at him and asked back. "Why did you come here?"

"I made a promise to Sariel." He answered immediately. 

Sarah turned fully to face him. "That's an excuse, Jareth and we both know it." She shook her head at him. "You came here because you wanted to see me." She whispered.

Jareth's eyes narrowed and he frowned, shaking her hand off his. "Don't let it all go up to your head." He said coldly. 

Sarah stepped closer to him once more and his eyes widened a little, as she caught him by surprise by her sudden action. "You came because you wanted to see me." She said quickly, her eyes searching his. "Sariel didn't ask you anything, you knew he wanted you to make amends with me and you used this excuse to come here. Am I wrong? Am I lying?" She asked, her eyes looking deeply in his. He had changed. She had changed. Now, she wanted to see him, Jareth, for real, at least once, she wanted to see the Jareth Millibel saw, she wanted to see the Jareth Sariel and Iome saw, she wanted to see him as he viewed himself. She wanted and she would.

Jareth turned his head aside and turned around. "My car isn't far." He said, with a gesture indicating the parking of the school. Sarah smiled and she almost ran to her desk to gather her things, while he waited in the doorway. 

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This is it. End of Chapter 06. What do you think of it, guys? 


	8. Secound Round A Truce

Wishes

Chapter 7. Second Round. A Truce.

By mikim

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Dedication: For Terrie. Sweetie, your reviews are the best cure against writer's block. Thanks a lot for all the support you've shown me since a Little of Hell. 

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Standard Disclaimers Apply. Songs belong to their rightful owners.

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The phone rang thrice before Charlie could reach it. She had just gotten home from an exhausting day at work and as soon as she got the door open, the phone began to ring.  "Charlie Thompson speaking, can I help you?" She said almost panting.

"Charlie? Hi, it's Iome." Iome shifted the telephone better to hold it between her cheek and left shoulder. She padded to the refrigerator and pulled it open, rummaging through, looking for a bottle of fruit juice, but between Sariel's strange looking stuff –brown and feeling like jelly- and Jareth's habits to always buy more meat than they actually needed, it was a more complicated task than she had first thought.

Charlie sat heavily in the chair next to the telephone and kicked her shoes. "Oh! Hi, how are you?"

Triumphant, Iome located the last bottle of juice, behind Jareth's favorite jam and Sariel's Soya milk. "Fine and I came up with a plan." She pushed the refrigerator closed and went back to the kitchen table.

Charlie leaned back in her chair, her eyes twinkling. "Really?" Her feet were finally out of the so many times cursed black high heels shoes she had to wear at work. Absentmindedly, Charlie took off her jacket and loosened her collar.

Over the phone, Iome could almost hear Charlie's smile. "Yeah, now what I need is an occasion." She poured her juice in a glass, proud of her last scheme.

"Go on." Charlie wriggled her toes and picking up the phone in one hand, the receiver in the other, she stood up: she had to pick up her wet umbrella she had carelessly cast away when the phone had rang.

Iome grinned and said quickly. "What about we threw a party. I could work on Sarah, while you'll do Jareth." She was alone home, Sariel was gone somewhere, probably in a museum and Jareth had disappeared before the rain had broken through. She's been slaving in the gym room, listening to some music, when that wonderful idea popped up in her mind.

Charlie frowned a little, thinking. That could be a perfect occasion: they would have to behave themselves, because there would be other people present, they wouldn't be able to throw things at each others heads, nor yell at each others faces if they didn't want half of the neighborhood to know it. "Hey, we're not allowed to dump each others burden on the other one…" She said jokingly. She liked the idea and she had the perfect occasion for it and Sarah wouldn't be able to avoid the party.

Iome looked outside at the rain slashing the doors. The weather was terrible, but she felt at peace, just listening to the rain falling and scheming with Charlie. "I know, but that could rouse Jareth's jealousy and we could get Sarah ticked by curiosity." She pointed out. She had given it a piece of thought beforehand. She knew how jealous Jareth was. Over his sister, over Sariel, even over her, he protected what he perceived as his own with a ferocity Iome had never seen before and on the other hand, the protected one had to suffer the blazing fury of jealousy. 

Charlie stopped in her tracks: Sarah was not one to be bond down. Charlie shrugged mentally: one problem at a time, she told herself. But Iome's plan could work. "Hmm… Sarah's curious like a cat…" Charlie grinned and resumed walking. It would work. "My husband is turning 30 in a week…"

As she had expected it, Iome happily exclaimed. "That would be perfect!" Iome wanted to dance. She hadn't been able to find an occasion to throw a party without Sariel complaining and Jareth sulking. Now, they would have both to nod and come along.

Charlie smiled at Iome's enthusiasm. "Ok. My place, Saturday night." She decided.

Iome's excitement fell suddenly. "Why yours? Why not the hacienda?" She asked. That could be a problem. 

Charlie rolled her eyes. "Because, silly, it's my husband."

Iome cursed under her breath. "Oh… Right." Charlie had a point. Jareth would be suspicious if they celebrated a birthday in their place for a guy he had met a week before. Iome sighed heavily. "Ok, now I need an excuse to drag Jareth over."

Charlie cringed. Of course, that was why Iome had wanted to have the party at the Hacienda. "Tough work. Good luck." She wished sincerely. 

"Hey!" Iome protested loudly. "Help me!"

Charlie sighed, when she said suddenly. "Sarah!" Of course, she was the solution!

"What?" 

Excited, Charlie explained quickly. "We could get Sarah to invite him!"

Iome growled her annoyance and drawled sarcastically. "Yeah, sure, and how would you want Sarah to invite him if he growls like he's going to bite if you mention her name in the neighborhood."

Charlie winced. "That bad?"

Iome sighed again. "Yeah…" She had nearly gotten her head bitten, when she had asked Jareth how Sarah was doing. She had thought they had spent the night together, since he had driven her home and hadn't called nor came home for the whole night. 

"Oh!" Charlie exclaimed, breaking Iome's chains of thoughts. "I know! Sarah's easy to get guilty! I'll do it! I mean, I'll make her invite him."

Iome wondered what scheme was enfolding into Charlie's charming little head, but she still asked, uncertain. "You sure?"

"Yeah, leave it to me!" Charlie's sure tone and obvious excitement dusted away the last of Iome's doubts and the two started to plan Steward's birthday party, without the principal participant, mainly Steward, as it was supposed to be his birthday, even knowing what was going on. 

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As soon as Sarah turned the key in the hole, Jareth asked her. "Sarah." He called her name and she turned around. He was behind her, still on her doorstep, his mismatched eyes fixed on her green ones. "Why did you invite me here?" He asked softly.

Sarah quickly avoided his eyes. The ride to her place had been short and uneventful. He had avoided turning on the radio and she hadn't mind. She too was wet as she hadn't thought this morning to take an umbrella with her.  "I couldn't really let you freeze at the school." She told him, leaving the door open for him to come in while she went to her bedroom to retrieve clothes and towels.

Jareth came in and closed the door behind him. He followed her quickly in her room and said her name again, in a reproachful way. "Sarah." They both knew her previous was but an excuse to get him here. 

Sarah froze for a second, but long enough for him to notice, her hands stilled over the towels before she picked them up from her cupboard. Turning, she threw him one and keeping one for her, she turned to take off the wet shirt she had on. Standing before him, even with her back to him, in bra and pants, she really felt naked again. "I…" She hesitated and lowered her arms around her chest. 

Sarah didn't add anything and quickly pulled a dry shirt out of her closet and over her head and wrapping her long hair in a towel, she pulled the wet pants off with a hand, reaching for a dry one with another one, as fast as possible. When she had finished dressing, the sound of the rain battling against her windows had dulled so he heard her with no real difficulties when she asked quietly. "Are the songs true?"

Jareth hadn't moved: he had watched her undress and dress again, her body bathed in a the dull light given out by the seldom lightning falling from the skies. The very body he had touched in this very room, the very body so hot and responsive to his. The towel still in his hand, he asked her. "What?" He didn't understand what his songs had to do with the fact she had brought him in her place again. With his left hand he finally started to unbutton his shirt while Sarah turned to her cupboard, trying to find him something to wear, but she had no shirts big enough for him to wear.

Still rummaging her clothes, Sarah answered him. "Charlie made me a copy of your CD."

Jareth dried his hair, topless, his shirt lying carelessly with Sarah's wet clothes, on the back of a nearby chair where she had thrown them.  "Isn't that stealing?"

Sarah ignored him. Her hands were trembling. "I… I listened to it, last night. Carefully..." She admitted and Jareth's movements stilled, his gaze focused entirely on Sarah. Without her noticing, he stepped closer, the towel around his shoulders. He understood her question, but her hesitations annoyed him. "I…" Sarah gave up searching for clothes for him, for she knew she had none. She stood up, turning around and was surprised to find him so close to her. 

Sensing her feelings and faking he hadn't noticed them, Jareth stepped backwards, sitting down on the floor to take off his shoes. Sarah watched him sit on the floor and take them off. Transfixed, her tongue loosened by itself. "Some of the songs really touched me and…" 

Jareth turned his eyes back to her and Sarah fell speechless again. "You said…" Sarah wondered where was her great resolution she had taken earlier, when she had promised herself she would fight to keep him at least long enough to decipher what she needed, what she really needed from him. "I mean, you told me…" Sarah bit her lower lip, her eyes falling from his bewitching eyes to the white skin of his shoulders, to the strong arms and hands. 

Jareth didn't miss her wandering eyes on his body and inwardly he smirked, like him, she couldn't help getting her eyes off him, drinking in his sight, like him in hers. "Yes?" He asked teasingly, as if he didn't know what she meant, standing up before her, making sure she didn't miss his chest and sinew arms. He turned to her, purposely turning his back to her bed, therefore, she would see it when she would look at him and she was going to look at him, he would make sure of that.

Sarah's breathing quickened. Jareth had pulled the towel off his shoulders and was wiping his chest of the remaining rain. "I mean… Do you…" The sight of his hands on his chest brought another memory to the front of her mind, she almost felt the velvet of his skin under her fingers.

Inwardly, Jareth smirked and he coyly asked her. "If you don't ask your question, Sarah, I can't answer to it. I'm not a mind-reader." His eyes twinkled and Sarah almost snapped at him. 

"You know what I mean!" The rug was mocking her.

Sadly, Jareth smiled a last time, before answering her sincerely. "Actually, no." He knew what she meant for the songs and him, but he didn't understand the relation between them and her bringing him here. If it had been he and Sarah in his place, he would have left her at school. 

Sarah stared at him, thunderstruck. He had swore not to lie, how couldn't she not believe him? "But, please, do enlighten me." His serious eyes settled on hers and for a moment, she held his gaze. 

Then, without a word, she gently reached for one of his hands and pulling him after her, she made her way to her CD player. Still without a word, she turned it on and finally faced him, after that she had picked the song that she wanted. It was one of the songs that she had listened to the very morning, under Millibel's urge and she wanted to know, she wanted to understand, she wanted to verify if what she thought could be true.

Still with his bigger hand in hers, she locked her eyes with his, listening to his breathe, dreading what she would probably see in them.

The music took off, like a bird flying toward the skies. An intimate piece of piano solo at first, played almost absentmindedly, a soft melody in that dark corners of a bar, for the only satisfaction of a few. Then, his voice came and started slow, like a promise. 

_A day will come, you'll tell me I love you  
From the tip of your heart, but say it anyway  
A simple word and the confession of a tear at the tip of your eyes  
Will make me a happy man_

Sarah raised his hand against her heart, looking intently in his eyes, surveying his face. But his face was made of stone and he didn't even twitch an eyebrow at her choice of the songs. Rather, he looked like he was listening to his own song for the first time, his lips thin, his eyes hard set on her but she was certain he couldn't see her. 

_A day will come you'll know all these things  
Which have made my life more black than pink  
You'll understand all my decencies all these words that scare me  
That I've hidden like a thief_

It was because she was paying close attention that she saw something in his eyes flicker, otherwise, she would have missed it. It came and went quicker than a lightning falling outside. An acceptance, a wonder maybe, a curious glint, a quicksilver flame and Sarah was confused, wasn't he the writer of these lyrics? 

The rain had quieted down for a while, but it was coming back stronger than before and Sarah still held his hand. She squeezed it a little and he finally turned his eyes to her, as if recognizing her suddenly and without a word, she stepped closer to him, taking off the wet towel of her hair with her free hand and throwing it on her sofa, till her head rested on his shoulder, her cheek on the smoothness of his skin. 

She brought his hand, entwined with hers, against her mouth, while her free hand closed gripped some of his flesh, right under his right shoulder. Jareth let her do at her convenience and when she settled, he shifted his arms around her frame, burying his free hand in her tangled wet locks.

_You, it's the skies who have sent you  
To me to teach me to love again  
Wait, let the days do, let the time to the time   
And to love_

Triggered by an untold word, Jareth led her through the dance their feet had so naturally taken up together. They hardly moved at all, more like staying where they were, swaying from a side to another very gently, very slowly. 

Yet another dance they shared and Sarah couldn't help but wonder how long this truce would hold. Longer than the first, the time of the song… She couldn't tell, she didn't want to ponder upon either. 

They danced quietly looking at each other without seeing the other one, each lost deeply in their own thoughts, but each of their thoughts turned to the other one. Jareth was as confused as she was over this text. 

It was one of the songs he had labeled as 'inanity' since it was one of the songs he had feverishly written down, the words pouring out of his mind on the paper, like he was only the recipient through which the words conveyed to the paper. It happened during one of those nights he only had glimpses of. It happened during one of  those nights after her triumphant leave of his kingdom, those mad nights which had plagued him.

_A day will come, you'll tell me I love you  
From the tip of your eyes but say it anyway  
In the sky of your gaze, read the desire and my victory  
A day will come you'll love me_

He actually remembered the night he had written those words down more vividly than any other nights, when he had been mad. He remembered crawling out of his bed, after ripping the bonds tying him to it, ropes Sariel and the old doctor had to place upon him. 

He remembered thrashing, cursing and howling at them, demanding them to release him, while Iome silently waved spells after spells of silence on him, so that no one in the fortress would know what was happening to their King. 

He could feel again the ropes cutting his flesh as he fought against them, he felt Millibel's tears, as she begged him to say put, to sleep, to forget and to let go. Then, both with Iome and Sariel on top of him to hold him as still as they could, Millibel had poured a bitter liquid in his mouth, all the while begging him to calm down. The liquid had set fire down his throat and triggered an explosion of light in his mind: they had sealed his magic away.

_You, it's the skies who have sent you towards me  
Who have never done anything but walk besides the core things  
By defiance only to burn my wings_

The song kept on, as Jareth reminisced: afterwards, when he had finally been too spent to do anything else but cry for them to release him, they had left him, Iome supporting Millibel as she sobbed violently against her shoulder, Sariel holding his bloody forearm he had placed forcibly in Jareth's mouth in order to prevent the latter to bite his tongue. Jareth, in pain, had bitten with all his strength when his magic was sealed and to this day, Sariel still bore its trace. 

The old doctor, Edanial, shaking his head sadly from sides to sides, muttering in the language of healers, but what had pierced him, what had sent Jareth beyond the edge, what had sent a bolt of lightning through his veins and made him thrash against his bonds once more was Sariel. 

He remembered Sariel standing in his doorframe, holding a tissue to his arm, as he had refused Edanial to heal it for him, as if he was punishing himself for something he had failed, Sariel looking at him, his gaze never leaving him, his eyes like secret doors to the past, like windows, as Sariel had been the only one to actually witness Sarah to best him at his own game. Sariel knew, as he had seen first hand what had happened, from both sides. During Sarah's time in the Labyrinth, whenever he was with her, he was also aware of Jareth and vice-versa. Sariel knew and it drove Jareth mad. His next memories of that fateful night were blurry and confused, mixed with reality were feverish hallucinations, but writing he knew he had done because Millibel had, in the following morning, came in while he slept and recorded his lyrics. Other than what, Jareth didn't know what had pushed him to write, he didn't want to know either.

_A day will come you'll tell me I love you and I would love  
Wait let the days do, let the time to the time and to  
Love  
A day will come you'll tell me I love and I would love you_

During their dance, Sarah had felt Jareth's hands squeezed her several times but a look on his face the first time showed her he was deep in touch and was doing it unconsciously. Therefore, she said nothing as the song came closer to its end. 

When the last note finally rang in the living-room, Sarah quickly pushed the stop button, taking the occasion to turn her back on Jareth. She didn't want to face him, she didn't want to fight him. But if she didn't, she realized, he would leave and she didn't want that either. Her decision had already been made and so biting her lip, her fingers trailing on the CD player, Sarah slowly turned to face Jareth. 

He was waiting, standing his ground, he had known her moment of hesitation and had simply let her come to terms. His face was once more a mask of coldness and iron will. But a mask it was. She didn't know what was underneath, she only had glimpses of that, not enough for her to understand fully, but enough for her to long for it. 

Squaring her little shoulders and raising her chins, Sarah asked, almost like she was defying him. "Then, what does it mean?"

Jareth's posture relaxed suddenly, and it alarmed her because it showed he didn't care, and a smile slowly crept on his lips. With a feline grace, he turned around and sat on her couch, his eyes glinting and shrugging, he said slowly, detaching each of the words as to make sure she understood each of them. "I honestly don't know." He was answering her defy. 

Sarah was taken aback. She hadn't expected him to be as clueless as she was but awkward, in denial, embarrassed maybe. "What?" She croaked. 

Jareth smirked and leaned back comfortably. "After you left the Labyrinth, I fell into a kind of illness." He explained, waving his right hand as if to dismiss an unimportant memory. He gracefully shrugged once more. "I can't recall what happened in days. I have glimpse of faces, my sister, Sariel, Iome or my old doctor, but only flashes of them, I remember throwing everything aside. This song is from that time and I don't know what it means." Then he smiled and Sarah thought that it was how a wolf would smile to a deer.

Something suddenly clicked in Sarah's mind, as she remembered something Millibel had told her. She had mentioned Jareth being ill, but more like a time he went mad, if she recalled it well. Sarah narrowed her eyes. "Really?"

Jareth's eyes grew suddenly dark and his smile as suddenly lost all its playful dimension. "Have I ever lied to you?" He asked darkly as he stood up.

Sarah followed him with her eyes as he stood up and said softly. "I've been told deception is a kind of lie too."

Jareth smirked once more and approached, like he was trying to impress her, to make her back away. "It's a matter of perception, then."

Sarah dismissed his last remark and focused her eyes on his. She drank in his sight as he walked to her and the words blurted out of her mouth without her realizing it. "Will you go out with me?"

Jareth stopped and this time it was his turn to be stunned. "What?"

Sarah finally realized the enormity of what she had just said and blushed redder than she ever had before. "I…" She spluttered and stammered, not knowing what to do, her eyes looking at her feet, trying to hide her face behind the wet curtain of her hair to no avail. "You're… When I…" Sarah was breathing so hard she was sure she would soon faint. "In that ballroom, I didn't understand what you meant… I…" She let her voice trail and an awkward silence fell on them until Jareth broke it.

"You were young and inexperienced, that much I learnt." Another long silence fell between them and neither moved. Sarah couldn't take it any longer and she looked up to him to see him watching her with guarding eyes, as if weighing each of her actions, as if he truly didn't understand what she meant.

"So, will you?" She asked in a husky voice, no looking in his eyes.

The silence this time was shorter than the first two, but it felt worse for Sarah. Jareth started to speak slowly, as if he was looking for his words, not knowing how to formulate his thought. "When a man and a woman aboveground date, aren't they suppose to feel something for each other, first?"

Quickly, Sarah looked up and asked. "You don't?" She advanced on him, gripping his hands tightly between her, searching his face for another glint.

Taken aback by her sudden gesture, Jareth blinked. "What?" 

Sarah kept walking until Jareth was forced to step back if he didn't want Sarah to run into him. But as she pushed him against the sofa, Sarah asked him. "Feel something for me?"

Jareth's long legs encountered the couch but Sarah kept pushing and he fell on it, in a sitting position. "I do." He frowned at her. He was looking up at her, but hadn't seem to realize the change of location. "But, I don't think it's what…"

Sarah jumped on the couch next to him, bringing her knees under her chin and shrugged as she cut him. "It ok. I do too."

She had released his hands all of the sudden, so suddenly in fact, that Jareth didn't know what to do with his hands anymore. He surveyed her face intently but only found her blushing and avoiding his eyes in the small silence. "Why would I do that, then?" He asked softly.

Sarah's mouth fell open, like she hadn't thought about that and once more, she stammered. "I want…" She started, then stopped to start once more. "I want us to try again…" Her voice dropped an octave and Jareth had to lean forward to hear her. "Sunday morning, I felt so at peace and…" Sarah stood up suddenly and opened her arms, looking from left to right. "My apartment feels so empty since then." She made a small turn on herself, her face set in an almost painful expression. "You only spent like what? Barely a night here and you've already marked this place as yours and I can't stand being here without…" She didn't finish her sentence but it wasn't necessary. Jareth stood up but never made a move towards her. Finally, Sarah grumbled. "Besides, you were the one jealous."

Jareth raised an eyebrow. "But you're the one addicted."

Sarah's head shot up and she pouted at him, and frowning she challenged him. "Because you're not?"

"I don't see what you mean." Jareth wondered what the little minx was up to.

Sarah tensed visibly and let through her gritted teeth. She reminded Jareth of a cat gripping the curtains and letting itself fall down slowly tearing the curtains in its way, hissing all the way down. "Liar."

Jareth sighed. "Sarah, what did I say about lying?" But she didn't answer him and holding his gaze, she half-turned to push the CD player play button again. Without looking at it, she changed the song until she was satisfied and she stood like a statue next to the CD player, her hot gaze on him, burning with fury.

_Kneeling like in prayer  
Naked of dignity  
Today well I love you  
I love you, you won _

_When my eyes turn soft_

_And that they show you the ways  
I need your belly  
Under my hands and body_

Jareth's eyes widened slightly and Sarah felt a burst of hope. Jareth, on the other hand, remembered that song. It was one of his oldest work, one he had written on a strange impulse, one day, way before he hadn't ever even heard of Sarah. But he couldn't tell her that, as he didn't know why he had written this. Millibel had smiled and said the song reflected his nature, but he had shook his head and shrugged, saying he didn't understand what she meant. She had laughed then, telling him that the day he would meet the woman he would want to spend the rest of his days with would understand and tell him what it meant. 

Jareth had grumbled and rolled his mismatched eyes heavenward, eliciting more laughter on his sister's part and never brought the song up again, until Millibel had declared she wanted it to be in his CD.__

_I want to kill you out of love  
And then die myself  
As many times as you want  
I want to kill you out of joy  
To better chain you to me  
I'm the wild you're the prey_

Sarah stepped towards him and he let her come, unmoving. He narrowed his eyes, trying to recall the very day he had written the song, he remembered something weird had happened that day, something that had spooked him, making chill crept in his bone… The Seers. He remembered it now. He had been summoned to his father's Court to witness whatever nonsense, which had only cost him some of his time, and when he was leaving, crossing the Grand Hall, the Imperial Court slipping in front of him to let him through, the Seers had stepped in his way. 

The Twelve had kept to themselves, like they had always done, but when he was leaving, at once, like one, they had blocked his way out for a few minutes, each of them intensely looking at him from behind their elaborate, golden rimmed masks. All, except the head of the Seers, as one again, bowed in front of him. The Seers to watch somebody intensely wasn't an uncommon thing, but for them to purposely show interest in somebody was a first. It started quite a commotion in the hall, everybody stopped talking at once and when the Seers bowed, even if the head didn't, a string of loud gaps could be heard and people started whispering, muttering among themselves quickly. The story even made round the Underground faster than fire would have through a dry bush. 

_Give and cry all you can  
And from the depths of my body  
To melt on this bank  
Like the white bird of the north wind_

It had been when coming home afterwards, that he had the impulse of writing the song down. He remembered he had already retired for bed, when he had felt the urge to write. He had never link the two things and still couldn't see a connection between them, but he started to wonder. The Seers never did something unnecessary, they had a purpose, they had something in mind. If only he could see what and if this song and Sarah were entwined in it. If she were, Jareth didn't know what he would do to the Seers… He really had no idea, but it promised to be bloody…

_And feel against my lips  
You heart beating under your naked skin  
When the words give fever  
And that the world no longer exists_

_I want to kill you out of love  
And then die myself  
As many times as you want  
I want to kill you out of joy  
To better chain you to me  
I'm the wild you're the prey_

The song stopped and Jareth and Sarah stood like adversaries, each at opposites ends of the living room. She didn't trust her voice to ask, as she feared him to answer he wasn't talking about her and he didn't know what to say. The silence remained as the rain finally quieted down. They had to do something, the couldn't stay like this forever, Jareth thought. Closing his eyes briefly, he took a deep breathe and when he opened them again, he focused his gaze on Sarah, who squirmed, uncomfortable under his decided gaze. "What do you want from me, Sarah?" He asked her very softly, but it wouldn't have frightened her more, if he had been yelling at her as she didn't know what she wanted. Her mind and heart were in such confusion: old feelings were kicking back, new ones were confused and lost, her heart looking at each and not knowing which meant which, nor could her mind settle with the enigma he represented. 

One thing for sure, the only one, after all, she didn't him to go and leave like she had done the first time. She had left, sure in her heart he hated her, she had left sure in her heart she wouldn't see him again despite all her wishes, she had left her heart heavy with regrets... If something was to happen, Sarah suddenly decided, she didn't want to have any regrets. Any regrets at all. 

So, it was in a calm voice that she answered, without looking too intensely in his eyes… She didn't want to see him laugh at her either "I don't know, but I know I don't want you to go."

She was sure he was going to say no, but he simply asked. "Wouldn't it be better for both of us if I simply left?"

Anger rose swiftly. "Better for whom?" She asked him hotly. "Not  for me, that much I know." The sight of her angry eyes and rosy cheeks because of her anger made Jareth smile.

He crossed the living room to stand next to her and took her gently in his arms. "Then, a secret between the two of us." He whispered in her ear. He didn't know why he was whispering, as they were alone, nor did he know why he was hugging her. He just wanted to feel her. 

Sarah closed her own arms around him and whispered back, smiling. "A secret it is." She confirmed.

Something rang in his mind, like a bell, and Jareth suddenly remembered a piece of advice Millibel had once given him. "Jareth," she had said, dressed in a royal blue dress, her long blond hair falling on her lap, "try to be less impulsive. You are a King now, you should take your actions into consideration first." He was impulsive, he knew it. So, he added a quick precision to Sarah. Looking up, he said. "A secret truce."

Sarah stared up at him. He was looking away, ahead of her. Sarah sighed softly and whispered back, as she put her cheek against his chest again. "If it's what you want." And she couldn't help thinking that they had done three steps forward to back down two.

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They were talking like they always did. It had started on catching up the latest news, sometimes the work rubbed them off, even during their non-working time, but as they were both journalists, they didn't mind that peeking of their privacy. They hadn't seen each others in weeks, one being sent to old Europe for a whatever article the magazine had asked while the other had stayed and captured sensational news at home. 

The first, the one coming back from Europe, was black-haired and had dark brown eyes, a quick smile and an easy manner. Bill, as it was his name, was sitting on his friend's, Lawrence or Larry for short, desk. They had been chatting about Bill's travel in Europe after work, both enjoying a coffee and a good laugh in Larry's office. 

Larry was also a photograph and his latest picture had earned quite some cash. His glorious picture was framed against one of the white walls of  his small, but private, office. Bill walked to it in order to admire it and smirked as he studied it: it showed a tall fair-haired man, dressed in leather jacket and pants, his arms tightly wrapped around a shorter female, with long and luscious black hair. Bill half-turned to face Larry, sitting comfortably in his chair. "Hey, that's Bane's girlfriend?" He asked, smirking.

Larry raised his hot cup of coffee, as a salute and nodded. "Hot stuff, hey?" Larry was tall and had only skin and muscles on his bones. He had long red hair, tied in a ponytail and several earrings in several parts of his body. 

Bill turned back to the picture, as he sipped on his coffee. If the weather hadn't been so bad, he and Larry would have certainly gone out to have a drink. Bill tried to guess the woman's form, but all that he could see, her long shapely legs, could only give him a guess of her upper body.  "Damn yes…" Larry's picture showed more the singer's face than his companion, but something struck home in Bill's mind. "Hey…"

Larry looked up. "What?"

Narrowing his eyes, Bill tried to se her better. He couldn't shook the feeling of familiarity with that woman, but he couldn't either place his finger on where he had seen her. He was sure he had talked to her but where and when were all the questions… "Do you have a better picture of her face?"

Immediately, Larry sat up straight and looked critically at his best friend. "You know her?" He asked suspiciously, placing his good old mug on his desk, near his latest work.

Still focused on the picture, Bill let his voice trail, deep in thought. "Not sure, but she seems familiar and I…"

Larry shook his head, as he turned to his desk and completed the sentence for Bill. "I know, I know, you never forget a face once you've seen it." They had known each other from University and Larry could bet that if he had earned a penny each time he had heard Bill say that, he would be richer than the richest man on earth.

Bill turned to Larry and grinned. "Come on, man, I know you got a better picture of her."

Larry grinned back: Bill knew him like the back of his hand, like he knew Bill like his. "Here." He handed Bill another picture of the couple that had been refused to be publish, even if the quality was better and if the couple's face were better seen. Larry mentally sighed: people wouldn't believe it was trued if the photo didn't have the feeling of being stolen. If it turned to be too clean for them, they would felt like it was a set-up and would discredit the paper. 

Bill studied the woman's face: in this photo, she was speaking to the singer, her smile reaching her eyes. Larry had changed the angle of this one, so that the couple were bathed in light in this one, rather than the light outlining them in the dark, like in the first. Something clicked at the sight of her vivid green eyes in Bill's mind.  "A school." He whispered. Jon set his mug on Larry's desk, as he leaned against it once more.

Larry quickly stood up and peered down at the photo too. "What?"

Still focused on her face, Bill kept on. "I saw her at a school."

Larry narrowed his eyes and sighed loudly, making Bill raise his eyes to his friend. Larry shrugged at Bill, explaining. "The security around her is pretty tight. Bane's agent doesn't want us to know her name and I've been trying for hours to find her name till the boss came here and told me to lay it down, if I didn't want to lose my job." His tone turned bitter and Bill guessed the boss had done a little more than threaten and knowing the man, it had probably been loud too. 

"Phew, tough." He whistled in sympathy. 

Larry shrugged again and fell back in his chair, taking his coffee again. "Yeah, that guy must have quite some relations."

"Um…" Bill nodded and went back at gazing the photo, when he remembered. "Jack's school!" He exclaimed suddenly, surprising Larry who choked on his sip. "She's Jack's teacher!" Bill smiled hugely to his friend, talking quickly, like each time when he was excited. "I went to pick him up the other day, because Karla, my sister, his mother, got into the hospital." 

Larry blinked and tried to recall when Karla, Bill's little sister, had her accident. He remembered Bill leaving the office in a hurry, looking completely lost, maybe three, probably four months before… "When she got her car accident?" Larry asked him.

Bill nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah. That's her, I'm sure of it." Proud, he set the photo down and picked up his coffee.

"What's her name?" Larry asked him.

Smiling like the Cheshire Cat, Bill answered.  "I remember it because her last name is my first name."

Larry looked at him, bewildered. "Bill?"

Bill grinned. Larry was so use at calling him by his nickname, that he didn't seem to remember 'Bill' was but a short cut for the name his mother had given him. "William." He corrected and turning his eyes to the woman, he whispered, his eyes glinting. "Sarah Williams."

Larry sighed. They had the information, but they couldn't do anything about it. He knew it, Bill knew it and the boss knew it. "What should we do?"

Bill turned his mischievous eyes on Larry and innocently suggested. "That guy must have an internet fan-club, no?" Bill took a sip of coffee to hide his smile but Larry caught it anyway and answered with a mischievous smile of his own.

"You naughty boy." He accused, as he turned his computer on.

Bill set his cup on the desk once more and leaned behind Larry, as the latter turned his computer on. "That's how you love me." He winked.

Larry rolled his eyes. "Asshole." All that was left to do, was to find Jareth Bane's fan-club website. A popular guy like him should have at least, one maybe two fan websites on the world wide web…

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that's all folk! Hope you liked it! I really put some thought in this story, so please tell me how much waste there is! I really wish I had arms big enough to hug you all against my heart. 

The story is developing, slowly but surely (I even have the next 4 chapters planned on paper!!), so please, hang on with me!

mikim


	9. A Truce Dancing in a Mines Field

Wishes

Chapter 8. A Truce. Dancing in a Mines Field…

By mikim

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Standard Disclaimers Apply. Songs belong to their rightful owners.

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Yah! So happy! Dawn, one of my favorite writers, left me a review! Yah! People out there, if you want a story really worth your time, read hers! (Happy Anniversary is really good so far! Smutty and all, just like I love them! Read it!)

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A.N.: This story is far (really far x 1,000,000) from behind finished. Sarah still needs to learn a little more of Jareth's world. So, please hang on with me! By the way, if you want to see the "map" I've "done" of Jareth's domain, tell me and I'll mail it to you. I had the hardest time to describe it!****

**I will leave my place for ten weeks (I'm going to an internship in London) therefore, I highly doubt I will be able to post anything until the day I come back, meaning the 10th of September. **

Please, please, please, forgive me! I know some of who frown down at the way I update (or so rarely update, some would probably think) but I love writing, I really do and I really don't want to leave this story like that, because it would leave, not only you but me too, unsatisfied and probably frustrated and irritable. 

So, please, hang on with me, and forgive me! And I do promise to take my notebook with me to work out the whole story on paper!

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Melanie Richmond was worried. More than that, actually. She was completely freaked out and there was nothing she could do: the information had already leaked out, with some photos at proof for the veracity of the information given out. Her King would not deny her the fact she had tried her best to protect his lady… But her name, along with the name of where she worked were currently posted on the internet. Sarah Williams she was called. 

Melanie sighed, letting her head fall in her cupped hands, her elbows wearily resting on her desk, at work. What would she tell her King? She had failed him once more. 

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Jareth had left for less than one hour, but Sarah was already missing his presence like a cruel reality and in the meantime, feeling happier than she ever had and it was weird. She was in her living room, his music in a soft background, and was making a fool of herself in her apartment. Dancing like mad, her arms wide open or turning on herself, laughing in glee like a child. 

The little time Jareth had spent with her, after that he had agreed to date her, had been awkward and embarrassing as she didn't know how to react. Jareth on the other hand, had been too aloof to be true. He had probably been as nervous and uncomfortable as she, but had hidden it better. Sarah didn't remember the last time she had felt so gauche… Her eyes had kept shifting to his lips without her consent and her hands seemed to have a mind of their own, as they had constantly sought his. 

Sarah giggled like a schoolgirl. She was dating Jareth. Oh, she knew why she had felt so awkward and just thinking about it again, made her blood rush to her pretty face, turning it an interesting shade of red. Jareth and her had both agreed on not getting physical before they each knew what they wanted from the other and made it crystal clear. Even if they had already spent one of the most intimate moments two strangers could, they had both agreed on going slower this time around and Sarah wasn't one to complain. 

Now that he was gone, she had let her joy explode and the excitement rush still hadn't left her and so she danced and laughed.

Sarah kept on playing for a while till her eyes caught her wet bag lying carelessly near her front door and she suddenly remembered Millibel and the small leather book. Sarah rushed to it and quickly opened it: she needed to tell Millibel!

_I have the most wonderful thing to tell you!!!!!_ She wrote, excited, her letters big and her pen quick leaving half-formed letters on the soft white paper.

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It actually took quite some time to get Millibel satisfied, as Millibel had fired Sarah questions after questions. But as soon as Sarah had finished telling Millibel what had transpired between Jareth and her, after discarding the small pang of guilt, as Jareth had wanted it to be secret, but as she reasoned with Millibel, to whom could Millibel tell her secret, when Millibel's very existence itself was a secret, Millibel had given Sarah the impression of a big fat cat, licking its whiskers; dripping of cream, perfectly content.

Sarah put the pen down, with a smile, leaving Millibel to gloat happily. Jareth's older sister had been as excited as Sarah, if not more and proud of herself, since, like she had pointed out to Sarah, she was the main matchmaker in this story. Because if not for her, Sarah would have never listened to Jareth's songs carefully enough to understand the meaning heading to her and Millibel kept on and on, but Sarah didn't mind at all and let her gloat all her content. 

Nothing could touch her, that night. Jareth and her were dating, her director had protected her against the parents' complaints of her indecent behavior. Sarah danced her way to her kitchen, a fool's grin plastered on her lips, and looked for something to eat.

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Later that evening, while the moon slowly climbed up the starry sky, attracted by the sound of hundreds blasphemies thundering in the kitchen, Sariel strolled in it curiously, the book he had been reading in hand. There, he found an Iome ready to kill, her angry little fists on her shapely hips, her blue eyes sending bolts of lightning, as she gazed intently at the fridge door, unaware of his presence. 

However, of her string of curses, each in one of the dozen languages and dialects existing in the Underground , Sariel repeatedly caught Jareth's name, therefore, he guessed Jareth was the cause of the release of the fury in the Hacienda. 

Sariel walked behind her and peered down over her shoulder: on the fridge door, a hastily written message, and by the handwriting, from Jareth, was saying. "I need to go back home for a while. Don't wait for me, I'll be back tomorrow morning." 

Sariel raised an eyebrow, surprised, as Jareth rarely went back without telling them before, and checked the calendar: once a week, since they had come Aboveground, Jareth would go back to his Kingdom to make sure everything was alright, but it usually happened on the Wednesdays, Aboveground days, and they were still Monday. 

Iome was still swearing her pretty head off and Sariel threw a quick glance at the chores planning they had set up for the house and realized that Jareth was supposed to cook for them that night and he smiled. That was why Iome was so furious: unexpectedly, Jareth was cooking quite well, something he had never bragged upon, and Iome looked forward each of the meals he prepared, like a child would Christmas. 

Sariel rolled his eyes and turned around to sit at the table, to go back to his reading. Iome fumed for a little longer, then sighed and slumped in the chair opposite of him. Sariel tried to ignore her, but when she snatched him book, without a word, and crossed her arms under her breasts, pouting at him and glaring at him with those blue eyes of hers, as if he was responsible for Jareth's disappearance. Sighing, Sariel gave in and stood up. Without a word, Iome had made him start dinner.

As he started to prepare their meal, Iome sat at the kitchen bar, a brown copybook opened in front of her in which she furiously wrote. He rose an eyebrow at her, while rummaging through their fridge, while her blond head was bent over her work. He rolled his eyes at her and turned to the oven.

Without a word, Iome flicked the radio next to her on and classical music poured in. It was one of Sariel's favorite Chopin movement, but Iome abhorred classical music and she quickly changed of channel. "Selfish brat." She let through her gritted teeth and Sariel looked at her pointedly and the radio. Iome superbly ignored his silent scowl, as she picked another channel, and Sariel could only sigh as he turned back at the washing of vegetables.

"He's the King." He said finally, evenly.

But Iome still pouted. "A brat nonetheless." She dryly said. His back to her, Sariel smiled sadly. Iome's younger brother died when he was but a mere babe in complications at the childbirth and somehow, Iome had always felt guilty of being the only offspring alive. Then, when she had first encountered Jareth and his dual eyes, as the rest of the Imperial Court she had shunned him away. Iome was trying to make amends, to soothe imaginary wounds Jareth may suffer from her hand.

Jareth, on the other hand, had never truly understood the extent of Iome's guilt. He let her fuss over him, in her own pushy way, sometimes complaining loudly about it, as he had let his sister fuss over him. Both he and Iome knew that if Jareth really wanted it, he could make her stop. He was King, after all. It was more like a silent understanding between them, a need he recognized in her eyes and gently obligated her, without having it mentioned at least once.

However, since Millibel's death, her fussing over him had intensified, she always made sure to be wherever he was, to know exactly all the time where he was precisely and if she could have him in her sight, as if she feared he might disappear in a flash of light. It had loosened with time, but it still drove Jareth to disappear sometimes. 

"Iome…" Sariel knew her better than Iome probably believed he did. Millibel Grace loved her very much, probably not as much as Iome would have liked, but still enough for Sariel, who had shared Millibel's bed to be jealous sometimes. And Millibel had no secret for Sariel. 

In the little time, they had been together, she had wanted him to know everything she knew, to see everything she had seen and for him to share everything she did. It had pleased him at first, then he had become weary of it, as he had finally understood why she was doing it: leaving him a last legacy, as he would never be recognized as her husband.

In the eyes of the Imperial Court, Sariel would never be more than a preceptor to Jareth. Millibel had known it and when her death had come, only the Imperial family was allowed to bid her lifeless body goodbye. Millibel had been making him memories on which he could cling for when she would die.

Millibel had explained him the craving need Iome had of looking after those she cared after, sometimes to even choke them with her care. Sariel and Iome hadn't, at first, get on very well, sharing a competition over Millibel's affection and Jareth's education.

If Sariel won in Jareth's case, he was given the underhand with Millibel's. For years, they had exchanged words, sometimes even insults over Sariel's charge and Iome's friend. Iome always found something to say about the way Sariel educated Jareth and Sariel always was in her legs whenever Iome tried to plan something for her princess. 

But again, Millibel's death had changed more than one thing and they had grown closer and closer to the point of being both overprotective of Jareth.

Sariel watched her, as he always had. He had been nicknamed the 'Watcher' and it defined his character quite well. So, as he watched over Iome, knowing full well that what she dreaded above all was for Jareth to abandon her. 

Iome blew a bang of blond hair away from her eyes and grumbled, not raising her eyes from her work. "He could have told us in person!" Iome loved his cooking, but it was more for the fact of eating something he had done that she made sure to never miss a lunch or dish Jareth had produced.

Sariel gently shook his head. "You are being unreasonable." He told her in a gentle voice but Iome only drawled back.

"Shut up."

Sariel smiled sadly, as her answer lacked the usual biting tone. Iome was more hurt by Jareth's discreet disappearance than she let herself acknowledge. Sariel quickly cut the meat in even cubes and threw them in the awaiting pan. "You know, since we're here, I feel like we all share a deeper connection." He said carefully. He had been toying that thought for some time now, but had never voiced it.

Iome raised her eyes from whatever she was doing and quickly tucked a blond strand behind her left ear. "What do you mean?" She titled her head on the side, observing Sariel's sudden uneasy stance. 

Sariel fell silent, as he made sure nothing burnt, pondering on how he wanted to phrase his feeling. It was uneasy for him to do so, servants, even preceptors to a Prince, rarely if never made part of their thoughts to the Lords and Ladies and Iome was a Lady, to the tip of her polished nails to the last hair of her pretty head. Despite her foul mouth, that was, he added to himself bitterly. Sariel could feel Iome's gaze on his back, waiting for him to explain and he shifted on his feet, uncomfortable. Could he really say that? 

After all, she was nobility, he wasn't. As he added the vegetables, he stammered. "I mean… We look like more like a…" Sariel hesitated. He knew Iome for maybe fifty of above grounders years and yet, he still felt the distant barrier of their conditions. But Iome was also a friend, whatever the sheets, she had been born in, were and more, she had been Millibel's most trusted friend. "Family now, than before."

Iome blinked. It was rare for Sariel to speak so, he was always so awfully aware of the social distances that held between him and the rest of them. Even if, he had been the lover and husband, in the eyes of Jareth and herself and mainly Millibel, of an Imperial Princess, he still felt unworthy. Sometimes it had chagrined Iome and made Millibel's despair, as she had nourished a love for Sariel for many years, before she had summed up the courage to confess.

But Iome wasn't really good with feeling like that, she preferred irony. "Because we were a family?" She drawled. Sariel let a shaky laugh leave his lips, as he was taking a plate from the cupboards. Iome stood up and dressed the table. As, she set the plates, she said softly, without looking at him. "I understand what you mean, before, for me, Jareth was the King. Now, he's just Jareth." 

Iome smiled. She remembered the cold look on Jareth's face, the first time Millibel had brought her Jareth's fortress. The icy look that had froze her to the bones, but she had covered it all with sarcasm and witty remarks. Jareth had only rolled his dual eyes and left. 

Then, after she had learnt a little more on him, she had also learnt to appreciate him, his genuine care for his Kingdom and its inhabitants, his seriousness in his duties and total devotion to the little ones placed under his care. How perfect and almost unbreakable his mask was, she mused, but one woman, at least, had seen through it. One woman has found a creak in the armor. Iome sighed. She really hoped Sarah would dig her hole deeper in Jareth's heart, making it impossible for the latter to deny his love for her and perhaps, have a little happiness on his own. 

Sariel mistook her silence for maybe scorn to be put at the same level of him and tried to correct things. "I've…" But Iome cut him sharply as he set the plate on the table. 

Iome shook her head, as she finally placed a glass for the two of them, along with a water bottle. "I know, you old fool, you've always looked at him like he was your son." Sariel winced inwardly, but Iome caught it anyway. She reached out for his hand and patted it gently. "Sariel. Don't feel guilty." She smiled at him sorrowfully. "A man who merits the name of father is the one who raise and love a child, whether from his blood or not, and follow this child throughout his whole life." She told him gently. 

But Sariel quickly said, his tone getting hotter. "Jareth is our Emperor's…"

Just as cold as his tone was getting angrier, she cut him again firmly. "He gave up that right long ago and you know it, probably better than the rest of us." Her hard gaze found his eyes and he couldn't deny her the truth. Their Emperor had never openly or so scarcely privately showed Jareth a sign of affection or recognition. Countless of times, had he comfort the young prince.

Sariel sat heavily in his chair. "It just that…" His voice fell, as his head lowered till his chin touched his chest. "Sometimes, I know Jareth would have preferred his father to be here, instead of me." He finally confessed. Sariel had sacrificed his whole life to Jareth. He would never have a son of his own, not that he wanted one, his life, his entire being, had seen the first minute he had laid his eyes on the small prince resolved around him. 

Iome happily dug in Sariel's dish and served them both, as she said in an admonishing voice. "But you are the one he has kept by his side since the beginning, the only one." Iome smiled at him gently, her eyes lit up and her full lips felt like a sunrise. "I tag along because Millibel Grace was my friend." She pointed at him with her knife. "But you, you came for Jareth and he knows it." Iome shook her head once more. "Come on, old fool, don't start getting all sentimental on me. I don't have the time, I need to plan a party to get Sarah and Jareth together." She said with finality, as she dragged her copybook to her side.

Sariel picked up his fork and sighed. "Don't tell me you started your matchmaking…"

Iome smiled secretly. "Then I won't tell you."

"Iome." She then laughed.

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More than anything, Jareth liked to arrive by air to his Fortress. It was late a night, as he had taken longer than he had thought to fly to his Kingdom, the Illusion Isle.

His Illusion Isle had the shape of a half-moon with sharp and traitorous coasts, as if they had been cut with an axe from a bigger whole. The Outer Walls of his Fortress made round the whole island, shielding the inhabitants of the ravaging attacks of the Sea of Clouds waves. Going over the Outer Walls was strictly forbidden, as it was extremely perilous but none dared to walk outside the Walls anyway for it was too dangerous. The Illusion Isle city was spread inside the Walls, in each spikes of the island, with in its center, looming over the city was the King's Place. It wasn't actually a city, more like an extension of the castle, but not as refined at the King's castle. The people lived and traded in the lower grounds of their King's castle.

In the crisp cold air, Jareth could see the flickering lights burning in his subjects' homes, as he flew over them and, as each time Jareth saw the little number of them, he gritted his teeth in frustration. 

The night was calm and cold, like it always was on the Sea of Clouds. Jareth turned his eyes to his castle, his home, separated from the common grounds by two black pillars, clashing with the whiteness of the surrounding buildings: the Pillars of Creation. 

The one on the upper side of the Island was called the Beggar's Pillar, while its brother was called the Wizard's Pillar. On the top of each pillars, Jareth knew were two similar silver bells, which would ring whenever the King sat on the throne. They had rung for him for hours when he had been declared King, the powerful melody sending joy and glee, waking the city, as it had waited for a new King for more than three hundreds of the above grounders years. The Pillars were on each  sides of the Pretender's Gate, a huge black door, made of the finest wood, through which his people came to him for him to hear their grievances. 

Jareth flew over the Pretender's Gate and he felt the tingling inquisitive magic of the Illusion Isle protection shields touch him, recognize him and bow in front of him. As silent as the night, Jareth landed carefully on one of the balconies and turned to face the Sea of Clouds a last time, smirking lightly. He was the only one who knew the secret of the Sea of Clouds and the connection to the Illusion Isle and why such magical land had been forgotten and relegated to the legends of the Underground. 

He was home. 

Jareth turned upon his heels and walked deeper in the dark Fortress, glad to be home.

But the Palace wasn't simply a castle, it had been constructed, carved in the walls of the Dragon Domain, a high volcano, standing proudly over the City. The volcano had been tamed by magic so that the palace and the city could be always provided with warmth, without the need of charging woods, as there were no forest on the Island. 

The Palace was a delight for the eye: made of the purest white marble, it sorted out on the face of the cold-looking and dark volcano. It was like the day and the night, one so white over one so dark. The Palace counted hundreds of opened arches made of marbles, with pillars rimmed with golden threads and entwined with silver carved leaves, among flying birds and unearthly maiden. The carvings were the most delicate works Jareth had even seen but the knowledge of such work had long been lost to the tides of times.

Indeed, his kingdom was far older than it looked and had been created out of magic. No one held the knowledge of the spells the wizards and witches had cast to create such island for it was no ordinary island.

The Illusion Isle was more like a boat, sailing on the Sea of Clouds, always moving, and it hid more secrets that the eye met first as it was both a stronghold than a place of knowledge and beauty, and as every stronghold, it held deadly traps and illusions.

As he strolled in the grand dark halls, with only a few torches hanging here and there, casting a soft glow to the rooms, Jareth enjoyed the deep silence of the place. Unlike Aboveground, here there was no cars running all night, or helicopter flying loudly after a criminal, here in this land of magic and shadow there was only silence and calm. Jareth was aware that to an unknown eye, his Fortress seemed more like a dying place than a waking up castle and still it was the way.

In comparison to other monarchies, Jareth's hold on the throne was both recent and new, as the Illusion Isle had long been without a King. There were seldom people in the common grounds, but the size was growing each day, slowly but surely. His Palace had still hundreds of unoccupied rooms, lost to the dirt and the rumored ghosts lingering in them. But, as each time he strolled in his Palace, Jareth swore silently to himself to restore the grandness of his Kingdom.

Jareth wondered when his guards would find him. The Palace guardians, on the day he had mounted the Throne, had taken an oath to protect him, even to the cost of their lives and judging the sincerity of their vows the ancient magic ruling the Illusion Isle had granted them the ability to know always where their King was. And, just as he thought of them, Jareth heard the distant echo of running footsteps and barking dogs. 

His dogs found him first. They were three joyful golden retrievers, with dark robes for one and fairer ones for the two others. They made him a happy welcome, jumping, barking and licking his hands for the smaller female, Opal, while the dark male, Obsidian gently bit his right hand, urging him to come and play, whereas the older female, Opium, rubbed itself against his leg, demanding caresses. Jareth laughed at their antics and greeted them all with pats and caresses. 

Jareth only raised his eyes, when he felt the air change around him announcing him the Shadow Blades had found him.

Jareth stood tall and faced them all. They were eleven, men and women, dressed in dark, ready to melt in the shadows, if needed, a sword at their hips and he knew their bodies hid several other weapons he preferred not to know about, after he had seen what they could do. Their leader stepped forward and they all bowed deeply in front of him.

Only when they raised, did Kira, the Shadow Blades leader, talk. She was tall for a woman, taller than Sarah, maybe by an inch or two, he remarked, her hair were braided in the usual severe long braid, reaching her lower back. She was the deadlier of the Shadow Blades and acted as a tyrant when it came to his safety. As she straightened her back, Kira greeted him. "Lord Bane." 

Jareth smiled as he started to walk deeper in the castle, his dogs playing around him, with the first half Shadow Blades falling into his pace for some, while the others, responding to Kira's discreet nod melted in the shadows in front and behind him, to make sure their King risked nothing. "Kira." He nodded at her in response. "How have been things during my absence?" He asked softly, watching her from the corner of his eye.

As he had expected it, Kira's brow twitched quickly, but she answered him in an uncommitted voice. "Everything has gone as you have ordered it, my Lord."

Jareth smiled to himself: Kira was against his plan and she had made her position known by her silent refusal to acknowledge it, but he was her King and she had bowed to his will in the end. "And the little ones?" He asked, as he strolled in the direction of his personal quarters. 

Jareth caught a fleeting smile on one of the Shadow Blades face, a young man with dark hair and eyes, as Kira answered slowly. "Aurélien gave us a little trouble, he tried to morph but thankfully a Shadow Blade caught him before anything irreversible happened, Lord Bane." Jareth stopped in his track, and so did his ring of steel. Jareth wasn't fooled by their relaxed manners, as they strolled around him, he knew them all enough to be certain that should a threat arise, their weapons would be out of their sheath faster that he could create one of his crystals.

Narrowing his eyes, Jareth asked. "Did he get far?" Morphing was dangerous, as the wizard could get stuck with a wing and feather half his body, while the other half remained human. He had strictly forbidden each of his young charges to tempt morphing with a preceptor.

Kira shook her light brown head, her braid swaying left to right. "No, Lord Bane. We caught him at the earlier stage of morphing and forced him to undo what little changes he had started." She frowned a little, obviously still annoyed with the matter. "Master Edanial said not to punish him and rather to lock him in his room, under the non-magic spells to leave him ponder on his actions, Lord Bane."

Jareth smiled to himself again. Kira would have probably given the boy a stern lecture and a few slaps if he had fallen between her quick hands, but thankfully for the boy, Edanial, the old doctor had saved him. Kira obviously disapproved of his decision. "Anything else?" He asked again, dismissing the problem. He would get Sariel to visit the boy.

"Oh, a dragon hatched a week ago, Lord Bane." A smile spread on her lips, lighting up her face, making her look more like her years, as she was, in aboveground terms, in her late twenties only, but her grim look and cold face usually made her look way older than she truly was.

"Female?" Jareth inquired. He decided on visiting the magical beasts later that night. He knew the old dragon Icefyre wished for a golden female to be born, as the golden one was supposed to be the queen, since his old queen had died. 

Kira shook her head once more. "Male, a bronze male, Lord Bane."

Jareth nodded and suddenly called, as he stopped. "Shadow Blades."

They all stopped around him and Kira said, inquiring his will. "Master?"

Jareth grinned. "I'll just go to my chambers, no need for you all to follow me." He studied Kira's face.

He saw her fists clench quickly before relaxing while she let through her teeth. "I'm sorry, Lord Bane, but this is impossible." She narrowed her eyes, as if daring him to give her the opposite order he knew she would ignore. "Wherever the Lord Bane goes, we go." Jareth could feel around him the agreement and the muttered oath the other Shadow Blades took when their leader did. Her tone was final and firm and Jareth couldn't help himself, as he resumed walking. 

"Wherever, huh?" He asked.

Kira's back stiffened and the pace of the young Shadow Blades next to him lost some of its relaxed way, becoming tenser. "Except Aboveground, Lord Bane." Kira let through gritted teeth and Jareth laughed softly to himself. Kira had been violently against his plan to go aboveground. In fact, the extent of her fury had both shocked and stunned Jareth as Kira rarely, if never, displayed any emotions.

But, it was true the Shadow Blades couldn't leave the Underground, no matter how much they wished it, as their oaths, written in magic would lose its power in Aboveground and eventually kill them. Kira had proposed herself to be his only guard Aboveground, but Jareth had firmly refused it and had refused her the ability to cross portals. Kira had fumed and unattainable for days, but she had finally seen Jareth's reasons and bowed her anger to her King's will.

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Jareth closed the door of his chambers behind him quietly and leaned against it. The Shadow Blades had finally left him alone, but he was sure at least two of them were lurking around his door, while probably another pair was busy guarding the entrance of the only hall leading to the King's Chambers.

Only when the silence and darkness of the room caught up with him, did Jareth realize how much he liked that solitude, how much he despised the above grounders who took no time to savor what nature had provided them, taking everything for granted, sure they would have a second chance.

Jareth smirked and pushed himself off the door: second chances. That was the privilege of humans. Humans always believed they would have a second chance, the animal realm knew better. Shaking his head lightly, he also realized that he missed his soft blond locks brushing against his neck but he wasn't ready to let go of that sign of his mourning for his sister. Jareth stepped further in his reception room, opened the door leading to his boudoir, crossing it to finally reach his private space. till he faced the grand, man-sized mirror of his dressing room.

He wasn't sure he wanted to see himself, so he made sure to stay out of the mirror reflection path. Calling himself an idiot, Jareth stepped in front of the mirror. It was an exquisite thing, the rims made of white ivory, showing dancing sirens and laughing dolphins. Jareth carefully avoided his own reflection, as he let his hand run on the delicate carving. Finally, he turned his eyes towards himself.

He was dressed in dark, turning his pale skin even fairer, his blond hair almost white and in the pale moonlight flooding in the room, he looked more like an apparition than a human being, made of flesh and blood. He raised his right hand till he touched the reflected one in the mirror and let his eyes wander on his body: he was tall and not exactly skinny, but he wasn't fat either. Iome complained he was only bones and skin, but Sariel would say he also had muscles.

His short sleeves shirt let his pale arms be shown and Jareth observed them clinically: he could see the swell of his biceps and feel the restrained power of the magic coursing in his veins, which were swelled and easily noticeable. His eyes ran up his right arm till they reached his outstretched hand on the mirror: his hands were rather big, but he had long fingers, fingers that danced over a piano as skillfully as over a woman's heated flesh.

Jareth suddenly frowned and closed his hand in a fist, turning swiftly away from his reflection. Sarah was attracted to him, he knew, he could plainly see it: her blushes, her small gestures, her shy eyes and squirming fingers to the trembling of her smile. But he didn't know what had caught her in him.

Frustrated, Jareth ran a hand in his hair and realized with a jerk that he didn't wear any gloves, that he had touched Sarah without gloves. He turned his hand, palms up and stared down at them: what had he been thinking? Walking around without gloves, touching people without gloves! Thankfully for Sarah, they had been Aboveground, otherwise, his touch would have felt to her like a bolt of lighting, paralyzing her.

Groaning his annoyance, Jareth walked to his bed and slumped on it: it had been so long since he had last slept in the Illusion Isle heart and he yearned to sleep peacefully within his Palace comforting aura. Coming back always soothed him: when he could feel without concentrating, the course of magic in the air, when he could feel the earth beneath his feet pulse with life and force, where he could use his abilities without any restraints. He couldn't live Aboveground, like the Shadow Blades, eventually, the lack of magic would kill him.

So, what was he doing with Sarah? What was he expecting? Where would that thing with Sarah go? Would it just be a fling? And his annoyance at thinking Sarah just as a passing fancy surprised him. He tried to study his emotion: Sarah was a part of his life, after all, she had defeated him, marking him her presence would never completely leave him.

But Sarah had a life Aboveground. Frustrated with himself, Jareth pushed on his arms to stand up and angrily, he stomped his apartment till he reached the balcony, where, in a blink of an eye, he transformed into a snowy owl and flew away.

He would go and see the Dragons, as it had been long since he had last visited them. As he flew to the highest point of the mountain, Jareth smirked to himself: soon the Shadow Blades would realized through their link he no longer was in his chambers, but on the Dragon Mountain and they wouldn't be able to follow for the passage from the Palace to the Dragon Mountain was closed and sealed during the night. Kira would be seething.

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As he flew towards the top of the mountain, Jareth let his mind wander to the events of the late afternoon. After that they had agreed to date, Sarah had convinced him out of his drenched jeans, but while the dryer loudly worked in her bathroom, Jareth was clad in only a white towel, carefully wrapped around his narrow hips. Sarah had apologized profoundly on not having anything else for him to wear, but as she blabbered to him, he was far bigger than she was and she had no men clothes in her apartment. Jareth had stopped the flow of words by joking lightly he would have been kind of mad of finding men clothes in her shelves.

Sarah had been surprised at first, then she had blushed bright red and laughed lightly to cover her embarrassment.

What they had done after he could barely remember, they had talked that he knew but he couldn't, for the life of his, tell anyone what the topics had been since he didn't remember them. He had left shortly after Sarah had taken his clothes out of her dryer and drove back home, trying to convince himself he was fleeting.

But Jareth couldn't muse over what had transpired between him and Sarah any longer, as he encountered the first shield of the Dragon Domain and if he didn't displayed soon his identity the dragons would hunt him down. Therefore, he carefully opened his awareness of himself as the Illusion Isle King and spread it all around him, sending it waves after waves, making sure each and every one of them knew who was coming without a doubt.

As he climbed higher and higher to reach the Dragon Domain, the wind picked up stronger and stronger. Jareth softly cursed his choice of the snow owl, but he liked that bird, silent and graceful, a creature of the night. But its feathers were soft and a hawk's feathers would have taken him more swiftly to the top. But Jareth still kept on and finally saw his objective: a platform was oddly sticking out of the volcano. It would be there where Jareth would land, as it also was the only way for him to get in, since the top of the volcano had been closed with magic for the dragons to keep the warmth for themselves, instead of having it lost to the winds.

Jareth landed carefully on the windy platform and transformed quickly back to his humanoid form. The dragon of guard that night, greeted him with a deep bow of his long curved neck. The majestic animal was laying down the platform, taking most of it to hold its grand body. His skin was of brown leather, ready to face any type of weather and resist all kind of temperature. Its long neck, like a swan's one, was currently curved so that the big head was at the same level at Jareth's. Jareth nodded back to the dragon and entered the hall.

The hall was more like a cavern and several niches where dragons were carelessly sprawled, snoring. The dragons had a strong faith in their owns and each individual had no problem trusting another with his own life. Jareth had often thought such trust could reveal to be foolish since it could be used against them, but he had never said anything, for he respected them and knew far too well of their strength.

Jareth directly headed towards the center of the cavern where an old looking dragon was snoring loudly. His skin, once bronze and shiny, was used and several scars were running from the right shoulder of the animal to its big flanks. The dragon was sleeping curled like a ball, its big tail around himself, his neck curved around his big body. Jareth stopped next to the big head and smirked: the old Icefyre, Dragon Lord, taken by surprise. Shaking his head, Jareth sat down, leaning his back against the big paws and made himself comfortable, warming his limbs cold from the flight on Icefyre's body warmth when Icefyre surprised him.

"Making yourself comfortable, my King?" The big dragon asked, as he lazily opened an eye. Jareth could feel behind his back the cavern that was Icefyre's lungs vibrate as the dragon spoke in that deep voice of his.

Jareth looked up at him surprised and finally, his face broke into a small smile. "You knew I was watching you."

Icefyre moved a wing to make himself more comfortable and his mouth curved in what the dragons would define as a smile, showing off all those sharp teeth. "Indeed, I knew. In fact, I knew you had returned to the Underground, the minute you went through the portal." Jareth smiled sadly. He liked being there. Icefyre was his most trusted counselor, even before Sariel, when it came to matters of the state. But Icefyre rarely if never intervened in the way Jareth was handling the Kingdom.

"How's the new little one?" Jareth finally asked, letting his gaze wander on the rest of the cavern, but he couldn't see much, as it was nearly pitch black, if not for the light flooding from the entrance.

"He's fine." Icefyre answered and Jareth once more felt his answer rumble in his body. "He came just in time to take my place." Jareth raised a strange gaze at Icefyre's face to find the dragon watching him closely. "I'm old, Jareth, I will die soon. This little one will be my heir."

Jareth nodded slowly. When he had first came to this island, after that he had proved himself worthy, Icefyre had been the one to heal him and nurse him back to life. To do so, the dragon had taken Jareth's consciousness and awareness in himself, calling Jareth's soul, mind and heart inside his big body, while the magic of the Illusion Isle made wonders to repair the damages he had suffered.

But during that brief period of time, when being with Icefyre, Jareth had learnt what it was to belong somewhere, to feel duty of protecting others, to know the pain and sorrow of being unable to do anything but watch, to witness one's body slowly deteriorate as the time left its mark. Just like the rest of the Illusion Isle, the Dragon Domain was early empty. Icefyre had explained Jareth that during the time they had been without a King, some dragons died because there were enough magic to sustain their lives. The dragons had gone on, till one of their lords decided to put all of them into a deep sleep, all safe one who would watch over the others but mainly wake them up, when a new King would arise. Icefyre had been that guardian and he knew his time was coming closer to an end. Therefore, he was always gently nagging Jareth at the birth of a heir for the Illusion Isle Kingdom.

It was with Icefyre that Jareth had spent most of his time, after Millibel's death: he couldn't bear the stricken look on Sariel's face. The man had wandered through the Palace halls as if he had been amputated of half his body. Nor had he able to stay with Iome who had been bed ridden for days and weeks and when she had finally recovered, she had always been chasing him around to make sure he was well.

"What is bothering you, Jareth?" Icefyre nudged his arm gently with his enormous snout and Jareth smiled lightly and scratched the old dragon which won him a sigh of bliss.

"I'm not sure why Millibel sent me after her." Jareth answered eventually. Icefyre rested his head at Jareth's feet and stared up at him. Jareth dropped his hand and sighed. "I thought my sister had sent me Aboveground to confront my regrets and forget all about her and…"

Icefyre interrupted him. "Sarah?" He asked. He knew who Jareth was talking about, but not his reluctance at speaking the girl's name aloud when the other dragons were around. Even if Icefyre had countless of times promised the dragons wouldn't breathe to a soul what they had talked about, unless Icefyre said her name first, Jareth would never say it.

Jareth nodded slowly, his gaze slowly traveling around them, but none of the dragons seemed awake inside the cavern. "If that had been her intention," Jareth slowly resumed, "why had she chosen such songs for me to sing? I don't understand anymore." Jareth sighed and shook his head. Icefyre was the closest thing Jareth had as grandfather. Icefyre knew it and had been honored therefore, he had always let Jareth come to him to complain or just hang out as a person, not only as the Illusion Isle King. "I never truly dwell on her choices but now that Sarah had asked me about them…" Jareth hesitated, looking for his words but found none so he lamely added. "I just don't understand."

"I think, you're not thinking with your head." Jareth focused dubious eyes on Icefyre's twirling ones. Dragon's eyes were big and they endlessly twirl, light reflecting on each of the facets, as their eyes reminded Jareth of a crystal. "You're thinking with your heart, boy." Jareth frowned down at Icefyre and the latter chuckled: he had nicknamed Jareth boy and the latter hated it. Icefyre gazed for a while at Jareth, to see if he would understand what the old dragon meant. But as the stare and silence kept on, Icefyre said again, slowly, softly. "Feeling and faith leads to chaos and destruction when they reign in master over one's heart, as humans blindly follow them. Reason is the only solution to hold the peace, down here. But, then where would be the humanity?"

Jareth was clearly puzzled. The old dragon had a tendency to ramble a lot and Jareth failed to see where Icefyre wanted to go. "Icefyre, I don't…"

Icefyre gently cut him, by raising his voice a little. "It's alright to let your heart rule you, Jareth, but not to the point where it blinds you." The old dragon sighed and raised his head from the ground till it hovered over Jareth who bent his head backwards, as he followed Icefyre's movement with his eyes. "Follow your heart, boy, but with reason."

Jareth suddenly whispered. "What's love have to do with that?"

Icefyre looked down at him and his eyes twirled quicker. "Love has everything to do with that, as you say. But love isn't the only thing in your heart, Jareth." The twirling of his eyes slowed, as if sadness was overwhelming the old dragon, as he whispered to Jareth. "There is also pride and hate and anger. Dissect your feelings boy. It'll come to you easier."

Jareth shook his head. "I've already done that. But apparently I got it wrong because I had come to think Millibel wanted me to confront Sarah." 

"Jareth." Icefyre said with resignation. "This is not about what you think your sister wanted you to do. It's about you." Icefyre put a small emphasis on the pronoun and kept on. "Be selfish and only think of what you really want.".

Jareth smirked and stood up. "I'm selfish, I'm a King. Time for me to go, old friend." The old Dragon shook his heavy head as Jareth changed into an owl, the both knew Icefyre was threading on a thin line, so very close to a locked part of his heart, Jareth would never let himself acknowledge. The bird that was the King saluted the dragon once with a shriek of its one and turned to disappear in the night. The dragon on guard roared at Jareth as a goodbye.

Watching him leave, Icefyre muttered to himself. "He would have made such a fine dragon." Shaking his head, Icefyre sighed and put his head back on the ground, settling back to sleep. "Too bad he's got crippled at a so young age in his heart."

The last thought that ran in Icefyre's awake mind was the feeling that his King had went through the portal again and so that Jareth had gotten back Aboveground.

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The next morning found Sarah smiling till her cheeks hurt. She greeted happily her colleagues and made her way to her class humming softly. The other teachers all shared a secret smile and went on their own way to their classroom.

The day was uneventful, except maybe for the small teasing Sarah had to go through at lunch, about her boyfriend from the other teachers. She had blushed prettily and they had all said they were happy she had finally found a suitor. Even the kids seemed to behave that day. Nothing big happened and Sarah was more than fine with that. Perhaps the only black point was that she had received no news from Jareth.

Sarah rubbed her left shoulder, as she walked through the teachers class, till the compartment with her name written on it. Leaving her heavy bag fall at her feet, Sarah opened it, still humming one of Jareth's song under her tone.

She was all alone in the teacher's class, as the others had already left. Sarah had had some difficulty to clean up her classroom today, as one of her little student had let his paint pot fall on the ground and it had taken Sarah a little rubbing to have it all removed.

Inside her compartment, Sarah was surprised to find a white envelope with her name written on it. Sarah smiled and reached out to open it, thinking that it was = a message from Jareth.

But before she could open it, Leigh, Mark's wife, called her name. "Sarah!" She exclaimed, "there you are!"

Sarah turned around and answered to Leigh's smile with one of her own. "Hey, Leigh, how was your day?"

Leigh's eyes twinkled, as she put her bag on the central table. "Fine, thank you, but I'm here to deliver you a message from your boyfriend, who just called." Sarah blushed and turned completely around to face Leigh properly. "He asked you to meet him on the Obsidian, in the harbor, at seven, tonight."

Sarah's smile could have illuminated the room and Leigh teased her about it. Sarah thanked the woman and the two chatted a little about what had happened the day before. Sarah apologized for the scene and explained to Leigh Jareth had been jealous when he had seen her in Mark's arms. Leigh laughed and told her that actually Jareth had more or less apologized for his behavior. As they were leaving the teacher's class, Leigh realized she had forgotten her car keys on her desk and made a dash run to it, waving Sarah goodbye. Sarah smiled at the departing woman, and remembered her husband, Mark, wasn't there today to bring them home as he had gone out on a meeting with some new teacher he was planning to hire. Sarah had often silently felt a pang of jealousy whenever she would arrive in Mark's office, where Leigh had her desk: the discreet looks and shared secret that emanated from these two were so sweet and full of love that it sharply pointed out what Sarah hadn't.

But not anymore! Sarah thought to herself as she smiled watching Leigh hurry in the corridors and she suddenly remembered the letter she still had in her hands.

Turning it curiously, Sarah ripped it open. If Jareth had phoned the school, he wouldn't have sent a letter too. The message had been typed and Sarah frowned, as she halted in the corridor. Since her bag was too heavy, she let it fall on the ground next to her feet, with a loud thump.

_"Sarah Williams shouldn't plaster herself like she's doing on the King's leader, Jareth Bane, otherwise, bad things could happen to the gorgeous blond angel who feeds the old dog every night at seven sharp…"_

Sarah's mind whirled and the world stopped moving for a while, while the threat replayed itself before her eyes, the words seemed to scream at her, laugh at her too and she could easily picture Toby in her mind, feeding Lancelot. Her breathing accelerated and without thinking, Sarah was running down the corridor, for all she knew was that she needed to reach her parent's home.

Leigh arrived just to see Sarah disappear behind the corner, obviously in a hurry and as she gazed down at her wristwatch, Leigh smiled. 

It was 5:30 pm. 

The threat Sarah hadn't realized she had let go of softly landed next to her forgotten bag.

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Yah, I hoped you like this chapter! I'm slowly introducing Jareth's world! Yeah! Please leave a little something in the review box!!


	10. Dancing in a Mines Field A Bittersweet P...

**Wishes**,

By mikim

Chapter 9. **Dancing in a Mines Field. A Bitter-sweet Present…**

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Standard disclaimers apply: bla bla bla own next to nothing bla bla bla, we all know the song.

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Hey, you guys! It's been so long since I last posted something! But I have to tell you, I really enjoyed my time in London, it was more than great, more than wonderful it was!!!!!!!! Oh; I so want to live in that city! London is an extravagant city; full of derision and irony but in the meantime, so traditional and respectful! Oh; shoot if you let me ramble, you'll never be able to read the rest of this story. 

By the way, I promised to work in London and I did work. The whole story is planned and I know exactly when and where to finish this baby and I hope you'll enjoy the ride along me! (By the way, I don't know the Castle in the Sky, but what had inspired me this castle was "The Twelve Kingdoms", in which I heavily pick my stuff, not for the storyline, mind you, but for the places described and the locations…)

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Sarah blindly watched the streets blur pass by her window. She never had enough coin to afford a car, but then her workplace was near and the bus stop wasn't far either. Therefore, to reach her parents' house, Sarah had but assailed a cab and given a little breathlessly her father's house address to the mildly surprised driver. Her parents' house was on the outside of the town and would take her at least half an hour to get there. Ever since the last clash with Karen, Sarah had never put her feet back in the house. She still communicated with Toby, mostly through emails and secretly arranged dates at the movies. Sarah knew Toby suffered harshly the rift between his mother and his beloved sister, but Sarah had refused to even tell him the reason of such reaction from Karen and his mother hadn't ever uttered her step-daughter's name for around 5 years and hardly ever mentioned her again and if she did, she made sure everyone understood who she was talking about without saying Sarah's name.

Sarah sighed. Karen would probably blame her if anything happened to Toby. And she wouldn't be too wrong, Sarah thought bitterly. The threat had scared the wits out of her. First how could they have found her name, the place she used to live in and where she worked! For pity's sake, Sarah thought angrily, as she tightened her fist, couldn't them just let her alone? 

Frustrated, Sarah checked her watch one more time and took a good look outside: she was finally nearing her parents' house area.

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As he always did, Toby went out at seven sharp to feed Sarah's old dog. The old Lancelot was already waiting for him next to his plate, his tail waging faster and faster as Toby approached. Toby smiled down the dog and emptied the food dog can in the plate, on which Lancelot rushed as if he hadn't eaten for days. 

Toby stayed with him a little longer, sitting on the grass, a hand caressing lazily the animal while the latter ate. Feeding Lancelot was like a ritual, an old habitude he had picked up from when Sarah still lived in the house. She used to be the one feeding Lancelot and as soon as Toby could walk on his own without mush supervision he had tagged along.

"Psst!" 

Toby blinked. He could have sworn he had just heard someone or something hiss at him. 

"Toby!" A low murmur reached his ears and as Toby, Lancelot looked up his plate and his tail waging again. The old dog sat down and his tongue rolled out of his mouth, like the dog was smiling. Toby stilled his hand over the dog's head and looked around. 

The voice was familiar and Lancelot wasn't scarred and that was mush as his old dog was the biggest coward of the neighbourhood, even a bird could freak him out. 

"Toby, here!" The voice hissed again at him and Toby slowly stood up, ready to bolt back in his house when he caught the familiar green eyes of his older sister.

"Sarah!" Toby exclaimed surprised: Sarah was on all fours in the bushes and smiling up at him. She quickly put her finger to her lips, indicating him to stay silent, looking around to see if anybody had heard Toby. 

Surprised by her alert posture, Toby clasped instinctively his hands over his mouth. Upon this, Sarah rolled her eyes merrily. Lancelot's tail gained in rapidity in waging and the old dog stood up, intending of going to his mistress.

"No! Lancelot stay put, Toby catch him!" Sarah told him urgently and Toby quickly put his hand on the old worn out collar, stopping Lancelot firmly. The old dog shot him a sad look, then looked back sadly at Sarah. "Oh, Lancelot," she said, "don't look at me like that!" She pleaded her dog. 

"Sarah, what are you doing here?" Toby finally asked her.

"Can you do me a favour, first?" She asked him back, her eyes hopeful.

"Sure, anything." Toby replied wearily. What was his older sister doing in the bushes?

"Act like I'm not here, please Toby." She fixed her on him her best puppy eyes and Toby shook his head and slumped back on the grass, still holding Lancelot's collar. 

"Sarah, what's going on? You swore to never come back within a ten miles range of the house!" Toby whispered, looking over his shoulder to check if anybody was in the kitchen. 

Sarah hesitated. She had rushed here without thinking and not knowing what she would tell or do. "Look, Toby, can I trust you not to repeat all this to the parents?" Toby rolled his eyes at this and sighed. 

"Did I ever betray our secret?" He asked her, a bit hurt. 

"Sorry, Toby." Sarah said sheepishly. She then paused and took a deep breathe. "I met a guy a couple of days ago, who I used to know in the past and to make a long story short, we hooked up but apparently one of his…" Sarah hesitated once more. She didn't know what Toby knew about the make-out session on the streets. "former girlfriend isn't happy with that and she… She threatened to do something to you."

Bewildered, Toby looked at her. "So you rushed here?"

Sarah shrugged. "Yeah, looks like so."

"Jeez, Sarah I can take care of some girl, you know." Her little brother drawled and Sarah had to recognize he could have certainly handle that crazy fan quite well alone. Indeed, Toby could charm anybody: with his angelic blond hair and cerulean blue eyes, his baby skin still giving him a peach-feel like cheeks and the honey tongue he had inherited from escaping his teachers' threats. 

"Well, she's a real goner! What if she tries anything funny on you!" Sarah pointed out, but Toby only smiled back and shrugged.

"Chill out, sis, if anybody approached me, I'd know because Lancelot here is the biggest coward ever, if he smells something funny he'll run in the house and I'll run right next to him." Toby patted with affection the old dog.

But Sarah glared at him, from her bush. "Is it suppose to comfort me?"

Toby looked almost sincerely stricken. "It doesn't?"

"Toby!" Sarah snapped irritably.

Toby chuckled a little, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Relax, Sarah, crazy chick is not going after me, she just sent you that threat to scare you and get you off that guy…" A smirk played on his lips and Sarah scowled.

"You've seen the papers Sunday." She accused him.

Toby shrugged, smiling broadly. "They were quite hard to avoid, since a paperboy comes every morning to deliver it to dad."

Sarah looked horrified. She had secretly hoped her parents hadn't seen the compromising photos. "Oh, my god!"

Toby nodded. "Yeah, that's exactly what dad said."

Sarah didn't hear him and shaking, she wondered aloud. "What must he thinking?"

Toby shivered at the memory of his dad opening this paper and seeing his daughter on the front page. "Don't know, but mom… Well you know mom." Toby sighed. He loved his mother, but he did also love his sister. But the rift between them was as old as he was and probably as deep as the ocean. 

He understood however that what had caused the rift between the two women was probable something too painful for Sarah to talk about it, but then, he didn't understand either his mother's anger for Sarah. 

He knew, from the disputes he had often eavesdropped upon that Sarah had done something, but for the life of his, Toby couldn't picture something big enough to create such anger in his mother for his sister. 

Sarah rolled her eyes and drawled sarcastically. "Yeah, I know Karen…"

"So, it's really true? You're really dating a singer!" Toby exclaimed, amazed.

"Toby, not so loud!" Sarah hissed, quickly looking around to see if anybody had heard him.

"Sorry." Sheepishly, he apologized. 

 "Not a word or I'll wring your neck and tell dad about who really smashed his car and ran over the roses!" Sarah threatened him urgently, watching colour flee like the plague her little brother's cheeks.

Horrified, he looked at his sister, like she had struck him. "You wouldn't!" 

"Then, not a word." She marked her words with a violent shake of her finger at him.

Toby put his right hand on his heart and solemnly said. "Promise. So, who's after me, anyway?"

Sarah sighed and wondered if she hadn't somehow overreacted. She could have just rung the house and demanded to talk to Toby. "Don't know, one of his crazier fan I guess." She told him, suddenly feeling drained. Now, that the tension was over, her nerves were relaxing, leaving her completely drain of any energy or willpower.

Toby smiled at her gently. "Hmm, well, don't worry, I can take care of myself." He assured her, Sarah had always been overprotective of him. It used to bother him, when she still lived in the house, but since she had gone, he actually missed the usual fussing she use to put him under. "And if I'm not in school, I'm either home, at Jake's or Ami's." 

Sarah's eyebrows shot up. "Ami? I thought her name was Harriet?"

Toby rolled him eyes once more. His sister had no memory for his girlfriends' names. "Nope, broke up with her weeks ago! I told you!" He shook his head at her. "You know, Ami, the long black-haired girl, with the most beautiful chestnut eyes I've ever seen."

Sarah's brow wrinkled for a while, then she remembered Toby's long email about that girl. "Oh, yes, sorry, got them mixed up."

Toby smiled and Sarah shivered. Her little brother really was a lady-killer. "Anyway, what are you doing in the bushes?" His eyes were shining with mirth and a teasing flame was dancing in them.

Annoyed, Sarah just snapped. "Look, would you just get in the house and call me a cab?" But it only made him laugh and Toby had to put his hands on his mouth to stifle his laughter, much to Sarah's annoyance. 

..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..

Jareth was waiting in the harbour. His yacht, his black jewel, made of fine black wood, the Obsidian, gently rocked the to the rising tide and Jareth sighed, checking his watch for the hundredth time, already. Sarah was over an hour late. 

The sun had sunk below the horizon a long time ago and his yacht was still in the harbour, while it should have been proudly fending the waves. The Obsidian was his pride, his solace to get escape that crazy world Sarah lived in, which always seemed to pulse too fast for him to fully grasp it. 

Oh, he had been a student here, when he was younger, but he now realized how protected was the world of students, full of hope and dreams, for when they leave their schools they were to be so quickly crushed by the outside world.

Jareth was lounging on one of the couches, on the main deck, the soft wind playing softly with his hair. He had earlier laid on the small table a foot from him, little candles and some wine was cooling in the special drawer, made just for that purpose, right under the table. Jareth focused his bored gaze on the dying flames. 

The wind picked up and finally won against the flickering candles. Watching the candles being blown away snapped something in Jareth and he reached, quick as an attacking snake, his cell phone and dialled without looking his home number. 

Fortunately, or unfortunately for Iome, she was the one to pick up the receiver, the very person Jareth wanted to reach. Barking quickly at Iome, in his best commanding and dark tone, he ordered her to locate Sarah and hung up. 

Iome blinked, receiver in hand, when the whole situation finally dawned on her: Jareth and Sarah had something planned together and Jareth had been stood up. 

..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..

Mark Jones grumbled as he strolled inside the living room, after having annoying his wife in the kitchen, where she was cooking their dinner.  

It wasn't really his fault if he couldn't tell the difference between a chicken and a turkey. Hell, they were just two big frozen corpses, with no feathers on, in the fridge. 

Ok, he almost burnt his hand too, but he was just trying to help. Right, he also burnt the potatoes, but she really didn't have to literally attempt to kick him out of the kitchen. He had just tried to help. 

As he sat, grumpy, in their soft yellow couch, he caught the sight of a black bag he didn't recognize. Mentally checking his wife's bags, he was persuaded this one wasn't hers. Or that he may have never seen it before. But, the bag looked old, therefore, she couldn't have just bought it. "Leigh!" He called and when he wife peeked from the doorframe, he pointed at the bag, with the remote control in hand. "What's this?" He asked. 

"Huh?" Leigh followed the direction he was pointing at with her eyes and found Sarah's bag. "Oh, Sarah's bag, she forgot it at school." Leigh shrugged and walked back in the kitchen. "Remind me to bring it to her, tomorrow."

Mark stood up and walked to the bag, saying. "Sure, hon." He picked up the bag and carried it next to his, in the hallway. Knowing Leigh, she would probably forget it, even if he told her, therefore, he would be the one bringing it back to the airhead named Sarah. Really, forgetting her bag where she put all her stuff as a teacher and… A paper fluttered out of the bag, as he dropped in next to his. Curious, Mark reached down to it and opened it. As, his eyes followed the lines, they grew larger in alarm and he yelled, whirling around. "Leigh!"

Really annoyed by now, his beloved snapped back. "What?"

"Damn it!" Mark swore as he shoved the paper in Leigh's ones. "Look at that!" Then, he rushed to the phone, next to the couch and flipped his address book open, at Sarah's name.

"Oh, my god!" Leigh's face palled and she gulped down nervously. Shaking, she turned to her husband, and whispered. "It's a threat!"

"Bloody hell!" Mark swore, as Sarah's answering machine picked up. He angrily slammed down the receiver, growling. "She's not home!"

Leigh had her hands on her mouth, her eyes wide and she remembered. Quickly, she approached Mark. "No, she's with her boyfriend, they were supposed to meet…" She suddenly remembered that Jareth had given his number, when he had called. "Wait! He gave me his number if she needed to call him back…" Leigh ran to her bag. She had been on the verge of leaving for lunch when Jareth had called. She had therefore, hastily written his number on a piece of paper to give it to Sarah and put it in her bag, on her way out. "Where did I write it?" Leigh grumbled, as she tossed the content of her bag on the table, where her black leather bag had been.

"Leigh, come on!" Mark said impatiently, worry coursing his veins. After all that Sarah had been through, she really needn't another stalker!

"Here!" Leigh exclaimed triumphantly as she showed him a small piece of yellow paper, on which a hastily written number was.

Leigh dialled the number quickly and waited until a smooth voice, with a crisp English accent answered dryly. "Bane."

Worried as the threat letter was still in her hand, Leigh blurted out. "Is Sarah with you?" 

Leigh heard a sharp inhale of breath, before a tightly controlled voice asked her, but the fury underneath frightened her. "Who are you?" Jareth demanded.

Leigh answered nervously. "It's Leigh Jones, from Sarah's school, listen, is Sarah with you?" She asked again bravely. 

The voice calmed down somehow and answered, slowly. "I take it you don't know either where she is."

Leigh's eyes widened again and she turned her fearful ones on her husband. "Oh, my god, Mark, she's not with him!"

Mark gritted his teeth in frustration and grabbed his wife by the shoulders, giving her a light squeeze. "Leigh, don't freak out on me, now, give me the phone."

"But…" Leigh's eyes were starting to fill with tears. Mark thought to himself she had been too emotional over the tiniest things lately. He carefully stored this information in his mind to deal with it later. He gently nudged his wife towards his office and told her softly. 

"Look for Sarah's parents number, will you?" On the other side, Mark could hear the sound of an engine turned down and someone opening a car door. Then he heard Jareth yell for someone. "Iome!" 

"Hello, Mark Jones here." He said in the phone, as Leigh ran into his office. "Listen, we're worried because we found something, next to Sarah's bag."

"Hold on." Jareth told him and Mark heard him bark to somebody. "Did you find her?" Then mark heard an outraged female voice but apparently Jareth ignored her, as he told Mark. "Go on." Jareth told him coldly.

Mark shrugged mentally but his voice was tight. "It's like a threat on Sarah for going out with you." Mark's eyes narrowed and his control was slowly slipping. "Now listen, pal, Sarah's been through much already, she doesn't need you and your crazy…" But a triumphant feminine yell was heard in the background and Jareth cut him sharply, shortly after.

"I found her," He told him quickly, as if not hearing a word of what Mark had said. "Can we meet somewhere for me to get her bag?"

"Hey, are you even listening to me?" Outraged, Mark only yelled back in the phone, just as Leigh came back in the room. "I found her parents' number!"

But it was Jareth who answered. "No need to call them, Sarah just left them." He told Mark, as he climbed back in his car.

"How do you know that?" Mark demanded, his temper on the verge of breaking. Oh, he would give that dumb singer his piece of mind when he would come over to get Sarah's bag.

Mark heard the engine roar to life, when Jareth answered a bit dryly. "I do, that's all, and yes I heard you. Where can we meet?"

Speechless by the man's arrogance, Mark bordered on telling to go to hell. "F…"

But Jareth didn't give him the chance, with his dry voice, devoid of any feelings, he bluntly ordered. "Just give me your address. I'll be over in a minute." And Mark gave in. The temptation of having that arrogant ass at arms' length winning over the current fury. 

..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..

"You got a lot of people worrying about you, Sarah dear." He snarled in her ear as soon as Sarah crossed the door. 

Sarah jumped, shrieking in surprise, and whirled around in horror and panic to meet the blaring eyes of a very angered Jareth. All of his body language, from the way his upper body was lightly bent forward so that he could loom over her like a menacing tower, to the way he stood, his two feet firmly planted on the ground, as if he wasn't backing from his position. 

"Jareth!" Sarah exclaimed, startled. "How did you get in there?" Sarah closed her door, without looking and tiredly rubbed her face. Exhausted, she trailed inside her living room, a seething monarch right behind her.

"There was a key in your bag." He hissed, when she simply walked past him, as in a daze. How weird, Sarah thought, oddly clinical, he can turn so simple words into the most vile insult just by his tone of voice.

"Really?" She asked, surprised, and Sarah let her body fall in the sofa, while she explained, with a tired wave of her hand. "I lose all my keys and once I found one in my freezer, god only knows how long…"

Jareth cut her abruptly, his anger reaching new high. He wasn't totally angry at Sarah, it wasn't her whole fault, even if she was a good part of it. "Sarah, what is the meaning of this?" He seethed, his long limbs trembling under the rage storming inside of him. He shook the letter in his right hand, in front of her face. 

He had read the letter over and over again, not believing what he saw there. He nearly had torn the paper in thousands of shards, but as a cool rain had suddenly fallen over him, his fingers had halted at the very last minute and he had folded the paper to place it in his pocket.

Sarah shrugged almost nonchalantly. Of course, he had to get his hands onto that. She thought to herself dryly. "As you can see it's just a menace letter." 

Jareth's roar surprised her and made her jump once more. "Sarah!" He yelled her name in frustration. "Damn it, woman, it's not just a menace letter! Fuck, I bet what's written here is true!" Sarah turned her eyes away at that, a small smile climbing to her lips.

"Yeah, Toby has always been extremely punctual." She nodded, it wasn't his problem, it was hers to deal with, if only he could understand that. Besides, as Toby pointed it out, there were only words on paper and now that they knew what to look for, it was pointless to be angry at nothing and mostly at an unknown face. 

She looked up back at Jareth and the latter grabbed her arms and harshly hurled her on her feet, not caring of her sudden shriek of pure outrage and the coming anger behind her green eyes. "Sarah!" He bellowed and he shook her once so violently that she felt her brain do a somersault. 

When her brain finally found its normal position, Sarah wiggled in his hold, trying to free herself from him. "Look, it's no big deal, everything's fine and…" She said quickly, but Jareth cut her by rudely shaking her once again.

"What do you mean, it's no big deal!" He yelled, punctuating each of his words by shaking Sarah. Sarah cried out in outrage "Sarah, someone just threatened you and…"

 "Damn it, let me go! I'm not some kind of dumb apple tree!" She yelled at him and tried to shake his hold off her, but Jareth didn't let her go. Sarah took this opportunity of him stopping shaking her to make her point clear to him. 

She started firmly. "I can take care of myself, mister." Watching his scowl grew deeper, Sarah honed herself for the battle she knew to come and squared her shoulders, her voice raising in volume. "And don't you dare to go all macho-man on me? I can take care of myself!" 

Jareth tightened his hands on her once more and he growled, low in his throat, like a wolf ready to attack. "That person threatened you, Sarah! Doesn't that even ring a bell?"

Sarah squirmed and he loosened his hold, while she yelled at him. "So what, you want me to stay put in my place forever?" Sarah finally managed to break free and she looked up at him, expecting him to reach for her again, but he didn't. 

Jareth stood, transfixed by her fury and her total lack of brains. She was crazy, she was mad, she even had her own madman on her heels and she still fought him toes and nails while she didn't seem to care for psycho-man out there. "Fat chance!" Sarah was yelling and she turned her back at him, her long hair slapping her back and his chest, while she threw at him, over her shoulder. "Besides, we're Aboveground here, your Highness, therefore, my rules!" On this, Sarah stomped inside her bedroom and slammed the door close to have it open a mere second after, by a livid King.

"You…" He started but he stopped, startled, as Sarah threw her arms around his neck and buried her nose in the hollow of his shoulder. Surprised, Jareth instinctively closed his arms around her form and even had stumbled backwards when her weight had added to his. But what troubled him more, was that Sarah was trembling.

Shaking like a leaf, she had known he was to follow. Jareth, she had noticed, was the one to leave, not the way around and he probably didn't even allow it to happen. She had been about to send him to Hells and lower.

But when the darkness of her room had happed her, when the sudden eerie silence had taken place, when her nerves had finally let go, she had known nothing but how to throw her arms around him. The ride home had been uneventful, she had been thinking of Toby and his easy smile and she had feared something, anything, may happened to him and that she may lost him. But, inside her dark room, this very thought she had managed to push aside came back, in full force, and trampled the small reassurances she had taken by meeting Toby, leaving her shaking like she had never before. For once, she craved for one of those cigarettes Sariel seemed to always have on him.

"Let's not fight over this, ok?" She whispered and Jareth looked down at her dark head. "My mind's all fuzzy and all I want to do is to crawl inside my bed and sleep." His warm body against hers, Sarah felt the angry knot inside of her loosen and let her escape. She felt suddenly safe, like the world had stopped somehow and Sarah didn't want to let go easily of this safe haven. Her arms around his neck tightened lightly, but Jareth didn't pay attention. His scent calmed her and soothed her nerves, lulling her sleep. Her head felt foggy and she felt sleep coming to overtake her.

Jareth bent a little over and placing his arms under her perk bottom, he lifted her, holding her against him. Her face was still buried in his shirt and she had brought her body closer to his, maybe fearing he would soon go. Instinctively, Sarah had closed her long legs around him and Jareth breathed in her scent. If, they hadn't promise not to get intimate again, until they were both comfortable and if she hadn't been on the verge of a mental breakdown, he would have probably try to seduce her. 

Honing himself from such thoughts, Jareth carried her to her bed, where he laid her gently on it, her long hair spilling on her white sheets and he quickly climbed on the bed, to lie next to her on it. Sarah had never let go of his neck and as he closed his arms around her once more, she whispered a smile coming up her lips, returning to her old self. "Besides, I bet I'm going to have bruises all over my arms because of you!" Jareth looked down at her, his face blank of emotion. 

In fact, he didn't really know what to do of Sarah. He knew she had been on the verge of a mental breakdown and if he hadn't followed her in her room, she probably would have been hyperventilating, due to the sudden retreat of the support her nerves had been given her. 

He actually felt weird having her in his arms, where she obviously needed to be, by the way she was clutching at him. A warm feeling was raising from his chest, erupting from the thought of her needing him, him, the man, not the King, just the man to protect her, to shield her, to hold her.

But, as quickly as the warm feeling rose, he tried to squash it away. He didn't need that satisfaction, he wouldn't have it, it was complicated enough as it already stood. Why had he agreed on that dating affair, he didn't know, but he had given in, tasting the waters. What Sarah didn't know, couldn't hurt her. What he really wanted. Wanted to know what power she still held over him and how he could break her hold on him.

He waited until her shaking completely stopped before talking again, asking her softly.  "Don't you have a cell phone?" He shifted her lightly, so that they were both lying on their sides, facing one another, her head resting on his outstretched left arm, his right arms curled around her waist. Her right arm was between them, the open palm touching his neck, while her left arm was flung around his neck once more.

Surprised, Sarah looked up. Her green eyes had lost the lost look in them. "No, I…"

Jareth rolled his eyes and cut her, detangling one of his arms to reach his pocket.  "Well, now you do." He told her, as he slammed in her open hand, resting between them, the small red and black cell phone he always had on him.

"Jareth, it's yours!" Sarah exclaimed, surprised. 

Once more, Jareth rolled his eyes at her. "I'll get myself another one tomorrow." He closed his fist around her hand, the small cell phone digging in her flesh by the force of his hold, while he bore holes in her eyes with his. "And you are keeping this one and if anything like that happened again, you are to call me first!" Slowly, he released her hand, but the power of his eyes told her there was no way she could talk him out of this one.

"Jareth…" Sarah whispered, shaking her head a little at him. But when she looked up at him, she was smiling warmly.  If you are worried just say so, idiot. She thought to herself. "Thanks for worrying about me." Jareth only looked away, grumbling, erupting a laugh from his small companion. 

"What's so funny?" He demanded.

"The first gift I received from you, as my boyfriend, is a cell phone!" Sarah giggled. "Don't you think it's a bit… funny."

Jareth smiled dryly and drawled. "Actually, the first gift was supposed to be flowers, but you kind of took me by surprise." Sarah hugged him and when she retreated a little, she asked him, curious. 

"How did you where I was?" She whispered. It didn't feel right to speak out loud, she knew there was no one else to eavesdrop on their conversation, but it was theirs. 

Jareth slowly brought one of his large palms to rest on her cheeks. "I had Iome track you down. It took her some time, because she has only been physically once in your presence." He explained slowly.

Sarah opened wide eyes. "She can do that?" She asked, surprised.

Jareth narrowed his eyes slowly as he nodded. "Yes, that's her natural talent." So, the little minx was trying to talk him around the threat letter. Well, he would let it lie for the rest of the night, but she would get his piece of mind tomorrow, first thing in the morning, when he would be sure she wouldn't break down.

"What's yours?" Sarah asked, but she wasn't looking at him as she spoke. Rather, she was fixed on some point over his right shoulder. 

Absentmindedly, he answered, as he brushed away black strands of silk hair from falling in her eyes.  "Morphing." And it dawned on him. She was so easy to read.

"What?"

Looking down at her, he explained softly. "I can change shapes." She was stalling. He could see it. She was just doing some small talk. She wasn't really interested in his answers. Stalling for what, however, he wasn't entirely sure. Oh, he had a faint idea, but…

"Cool." She said at last and the silence grew between them. Jareth was waiting for her. She had run out of things to say and was finding herself in front of a wall. Therefore, she only had two options left. The first, she stayed silent, till the thing she didn't want to tell him eat her away, or she actually confided in him. 

Her voice came low. So low, in fact, he had to lean to hear her. "I was so scared, I couldn't stop myself from running, I had to get to Toby, I had to make sure he was fine." Jareth tightened his hold on her waist. He remembered the panicked look in her eyes, when she had realized she had wished Toby away. And he could only imagine too well, what she had felt when someone had threatened her brother. Just like 14 years ago, she had met up this challenge and tried to rescue her brother. Only, this time, the opponent had no face and the walls of the labyrinth were invisible. "And the next thing I knew I was crawling inside the bushes behind my house to avoid my parents seeing me."

Jareth sighed inwardly and decided to be merciful. Therefore, he changed the subject. "Why would you avoid your parents?"

Sarah rolled her eyes, but he couldn't see it, as she had rested her forehead against his chest. "They kicked me out of the house years ago, précising me to never come back." She confessed dryly.

Frowning, Jareth tried to remember her parents. He remembered she had a strained relationship with her stepmother, but she had been very fond of her father. "Why?"

Sarah sighed heavily. "I don't want to talk about that, ok? It's rather…" She hesitated for a while, at loss of words. "Painful for me."

Jareth shook his head inwardly. Looked like he hadn't exactly picked the best subject to divert her attention. "Hmm… Anyway, you stood me up." 

Sarah looked up suddenly and at the cross look on his face, she broke into giggles. "Oh, Jareth." She rose a pale hand to his cheek.

Jareth shook his head a little. "I've never been stood up."

Sarah laughed, almost heartedly this time and wrinkled her nose at him. "So, how does it feel like?"

"Little minx." Jareth growled without real emotions behind and Sarah laughed once more, her spirits lifting. 

"I'm sorry," She finally said, when her laughter died down. "I didn't actually plan to spoil the evening, but…" Jareth rolled his eyes and cut her. 

"It's okay. But first, lend me your phone, I have to call Iome and Sariel to tell them what's going on." He said, as he extended his hand. "We also need to call that Mark Jones guy and his wife."

Sarah put the small device in his big hand and watched him as he dialled quickly a number. "Why?"

"They helped looking for you, you know. And it was Mark who rang me in the first place to ask where the fuck you were." He said, placing the phone to his ear. "They're all probably waiting next to the phone to know what the hell got into you." He grumbled, as the phone connected him to his house.

"Very funny." Sarah drawled, as she sat up on the bed, resting her back on the headboard. Jareth looked up at her and following an impulse, he placed his head on her lap, the phone still ringing at the mansion, as no one had picked it up yet.

"Hush, I'm on the phone." 

But Sarah didn't mind his last remark. "Jareth?"

"What?" 

"I'm hungry." And her stomach grumbled. Jareth was laughing at her sudden flushed face, when Sariel finally reached the phone.

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_Wow, it's been a while. _

_Hey guys, what do you think? Please leave me a small review!_


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